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He caught a glimpse of the grinning fish- face.
The Danger from the Deep
By Ralph Milne Farley
W THIN a thick-walled
sphere of steel eight
feet in diameter, with
crystal - clear fused-
quartz windows, there crouched an
meval muck and slime at the bottom
of the Pacific Ocean, one mile be-
neath the surface.
The beam from his 200-watt search-
light, which shot out through one
alert young scien-
George Ab-
bot. The sphere
rested on the pri-
Marooned on the sea-floor, hie hoist-
ins coble cut, young Abbot is left ot
the mercy of the man-sharks.
of his three win-
dows into the
dark blue depths
beyond, seemed
149
ISO
ASTOUNDING 8TORIK8
faint indeed, yet it served to illu-
minate anything which croesed It, or
on which it fell.
For a conaiderable length of time
since hia descent to the ocean floor,
young Abbot had clung to one of the
thick windows of his bathysphere,
absorbed by the marine life outside.
Slender small' flsh with stereoscopic
eyea, darted in and out of the beam
of light. Swimming snails floated
by, carrying their own phosphores-
cent lanterns. Paper-thin transpar-
ent crustaceans swam Into view, fol-
lowed by a few white shrimps, pale
as ghosts. Then a mist of tiny fish
swept across his field of vision. Ab-
bot cupped his face in hia hands, and
stared out.
The incongruous thought flashed
across his mind that thus he had
often sat by the window of his club
in New York, and gased out at the
paasing motor traffic.
His searchlight cut a sharp swath
through the blue muck. More than
once he thought he saw large mov-
ing fish-Uke forma far away.
"Speed up the generator," ho
called into his phone.
Immediately the shaft of light
brightened. He set about trying to
focus upon one of those dim elu-
sive shapes which had so intrigued
him.
B UT suddenly the searchlight
went out I Intent on repairing
the apparatus as rapidly as possible.
Abbot snapped the button-switch,
which ought to have Illuminated the
interior of his diving-sphere ; but the
lights did not go on. Then he no-
ticed that the electric fan, on which
he depended to keep his air-supply
properly mixed, had stopped.
He spoke into the telephone trans-
mitter, which hung in front of his
mouth: “Hi, there, up on the boat I
My electric power is cut off. I’m
down here with my fan stopped and
my heat cut off. Hoist me up, and
be quick about it I”
"O. K, sir."
Ae the young man waited for the
winch to get under way on the boat
a mile above him, he pulled out hia
electric pocket flashlight and sent
its feeble ray out through hia quarts-
glass window into the dim royal-
purple depths beyond, in one last
attempt to get a look at those mys-
terious fish -shapes which bad so in-
trigued him.
And then he saw one of them dis-
tinctly.
Evidently they had swum closer
when the glow of hia searchlight had
stopped ; and ao the sudden flash of
his pocket-light had taken them by
surprise.
For, as he snapped it on, he caught
an instant’s glimpse of a grinning
fish-face pressed dose against the
outside of his thick window-pane,
as though trying to peer in at him.
The fish-face somewhat resembled
the head of a shark, except that the
mouth was a bit nailer and not
quite so leeringly brutal, and the
forehead was rather high and domed.
But what moat attracted Abbot's
attention, in the brief instant before
the startled fish whisked away in a
swirlof phosphorescent foam, was tbs
fact that, from beneath each of the
two pectoral fins, there protruded
whit appeared to be a skinny human
arm, terminating in three fingers and
a thumb!
Then the fish was gone. Abbot
snapped off his little light.
The diving-sphere quivered, as the
hoisting-cable tautened. But sud-
denly the sphere settled back to the
bottom of the sea with a jarring thud.
"Cable’s parted, sir I” spoke a fran-
tic voice in his ear-phones.
F OR a moment George Abbot tat
stunned with horror. Then his
mind began to race, like a squirrel
in a cage, seeking some way of es-
cape.
Perhaps he could manage to un-
screw the 400-pound trap door at the
THE DANGER FROM THE DEEP
151
top of the sphere, and shoot to the
surface, with the bubbling-out of the
confined air. But his scientifically
trained mind made some rapid cal-
culations which showed him this was
absurd.
At the depth of a mile, the pres-
sure is roughly 156 atmospheres,
that is to say, 156 times the air-
pressure at the surface of the earth;
and the moment that his sphere was
opened to this pressure, he .would
be blow back inwardly away from
the manhole, and the air inside his
sphere would suddenly be com-
pressed to only 1/156 of its former
volume.
Not only would this pressure be
sufficient to squash him into a man-
gled pulp, but also the sudden com-
pression of the air inside the sphere
would generate enough heat to fry
that mangled pulp to a crisp cinder
almost instantly.
As George Abbot came to a full
realization of the horror of these
facts, he recoiled from the trap-door
as though it were charged with death.
“For Heaven’s sakes, do some-
thing!” he shrieked in agony into
the transmitter.
“Courage, sir," came back the reply.
“We are rigging up a grapple just
as fast as we can. Long before your
oxygen gives out, we shall slide it
down to you along the telephone line,
which is the only remaining connec-
tion between us. When it settles
about your sphere, and you can see
its hooks outside your window by
the light of your pockrt-flash, let us
know, and we’ll trip th&grapple and
haul you up.”
“Thank you,” replied the young
man.
H E was calm now, but it was an
enforced and numb kind of
calmness. Mechanically he throttled
down his oxygen supply, so as to
make it last longer. Mechanically
be took out his notebook and pencil
and started to write down, in the
dark, his experiences; for he was de-
termined to leave a full account for
posterity, even though he himself
should perish.
After setting dqwn a categorical
description of the successive part-
ings of the electric light cable and
the hoist cable, and his thoughts and
feelings in that connection, he de-
scribed in detail the shark with
hands, which he had seen through
the window of his sphere. He tried
to be very explicit about this, for he
realized that his account would prob-
ably be laid, by everyone, to the
disordered imagination of his last
dying moments; being a true scien-
tist, George Abbot Wanted the world
to believe him, so that another sphere
would be built and sent down to the
ocean depths, to find out more about
these peculiar denizens of the deep.
Of course, no one would believe
him. This thought kept drumming
in his ears. No one— except Profes-
sor Osborne. Old Osborne would
believe!
George Abbot’s mind flashed back
to a conversation he had had with
the old professor, just before the oil
interests had sent him on this ex-
ploring trip to discover the source
of the large quantities of petroleum
which had begun to bubble up from
the bottom of a certain section of
the Pacific very near where Abbot
now was.
O SBORNE had said, “This petro-
leum suggests a gusher to me.
And what causes gushers? Human
beings, boring for oil, to satisfy hu-
man needs."
“But, Professor,” Abbot had ob-
jected, “there can’t be any human
beings at the bottom of the seal"
“Why not?” Professor Osborne
had countered. “Life is supposed to
have originated spontaneously in the
slime of the ocean depths; therefore
that part of the earth has had a head-
start on us in the game of evolution.
May not this head-start have been
U2
ASTOUNDING STORIES
maintained right down to date, thus
producing at the bottom of the sea
a race superior to anything upon the
dry land?”
“But,” Abbot had objected further,
"if so, why haven't they come up to
visit or conquer us? And why
haven’t we ever found any trace of
them?”
“Quite simple to explain.” the old
professor had replied. “Any crea-
ture who can live at the frightful
pressures of the ocean depths could
never survive a journey even half-
way to the surface. It would be like
our trying to live in 'an almost per-
fect vacuum. We should explode,
and so would these denizens of the
deep, if they tried to come up here.
Even one of their dead bodies could
not be brought to the"surface in
recognizable form. No contact with
them will ever be possible, nor will
they ever constitute a menace to any
one — for which we may thank the
Lord t”
George Abbot now reviewed this
conversation as he crouched in his
diving-sphere in the purple darkness
of the marine depths. Yes, old Os-
borne would believe him. The diary
must be written for Osborne’s eyes.
A BBOT sent another beam from
his pocket light suddenly out
into the water; and this time he sur-
prised several of the peculiar fish.
These, like the first, had arms and
hands and high intelligent foreheads.
Then suddenly Abbot laughed a
harsh laugh. Old Osborne had been
wrong in one thing, namely in say-
ing that the super-race of the deep
would never be a menace to anyone.
They were being a menace to George
Abbot, right now, for it was un-
doubtedly tbey who had cut his
cables. Probably they were pos-
sessed of much the same scientific
curiosity with regard to him as he
was with regard to them, and so they
had determined to secure him as a
museum specimen.
The idea was a weird one. He
laughed again, mirthlessly.
"What is the matter, sir?” came
an anxious voice in his ear-phones.
“Hurry that grapple!" was his re-
ply. “I have 1 found out what cut
my cables. There are some very in-
telligent-looking fish down here, and
I think they want me for — ”
An ominous click sounded in his
ears. Then silence.
“Hello! Hello there!” he shouted.
“Can you hear me up on the boat?"
But no answer came back. The
line remained dead. The strange
fish had cut George Abbot’s last con-
tact with the upper world. The
grapple-hooks could never find him
now, for there was now not even a
telephone cable to guide them down
to his sphere.
The realization ithat he was hope-
lessly lost, and that he had not much
longer to live, came as a real relief
to him, after the last few moments of
frantic uncertainty.
H OPING that his sphere would
eventually be found, even
though too late to do him any good,
he set assiduously to work jotting
down all the details which he could
remember of those strange denizens
of the deep, the man-handed sharks,
which he was now firmly convinced
were the cause of his present pre-
dicament.
He stared out through one of his
windows into the brilliant blue dark-
ness, but did notiturn on his flash-
light. How near were these enemies
of his, he wondered?
The presence of those menacing
man-sharks, just outside the four-
inch-thick steel shell, which with-
stood a ton of pressure for each square
inch of its surface, began to obsess
young Abbot. What were they do-
ing out there in the watery-blue mid-
night? Perhaps, having secured his
sphere as a scientific specimen, they
were already preparing to cut into
it, so as to see what was inside. That
THE DANGER FROM THE DEEP
1S3
these fish could cut through four
inches of steel was not so improb-
able as it sounded, for had they not
already succeeded in severing a rub-
ber cable an inch and a half thick,
containing two heavy copper wires,
and also two inches of the finest
non-kinking steel rope I
The young scientist flashed his
pocket torch out through the thick
quartz pane, but bis enemies were
nowhere in sight. Then he fell to
calculating his oxygen supply. His
normal consumption was about half
a qu art per minute, at which rate his
two tanks would be good for thirty-
six hours. His chemical racks con-
tained enough soda-lime to absorb
the excess carbon dioxid, enough cal-
cium chlorid to keep down the hu-
midity and enough charcoal to
sweeten the body odors for much
more than that period.
For a moment, the thought of these
bets encouraged him. He had been
down less than two hours. Perhaps
the boat above him could affect his
rescue in the more than thirty-four
hours which remained!
B UT then he realized that he had
failed to take into consideration
the near-freezing temperature of the
ocean depths. This- temperature he
knew to be in the neighborhood of
39 degrees Fahrenheit — even though
no thermometer hung outside his
window, as none could withstand the
frightful pressures at the bottom of
the sea. For it is one of the remark-
able facts of inductive science that
man has been able to . figure out a
priori that the temperature at all
deep points of the ocean, tropic as
well as arctic, must alwpys be stable
at approximately 39 degrees.
Abbot was clad only in a light
cotton sailor suit, and now that his
source of heat had been cut off by
the severing of his power lines, his
prison was rapidly becoming unbear-
ably chilly. His thick steel sphere
constituted such a perfect transmit-
ter of heat that he might almost as
well have been actually swimming in
water of 39 degrees temperature, so
far as comfort was concerned.
Abbot’s emotions ran all the gamut
from stupefaction, through dull
calmness, clear-headed thought, in-
tense but aimless mental activity,
nervousness, frenzy and insane de-
lirium, back to stupefaction again.
During one of bis periods of calm-
ness, he figured out what an almost
total impossibility there was of the
chance that his ship, one mile above
him on the surface, could ever find
his sphere with grappling hooks.
Yet he prayed for that chance. A
single chance in a million sometimes
does happen.
S EVERAL hours had by now
elapsed since the parting of the
young scientist’s cables. It was bit-
terly cold inside the sphere. In or-
der to keep warm, he had to exercise
during his calm moments as sys-
tematically as his cramped quarters
would permit. During his frantic
moments he got plenty of exercise
automatically. And of course all this
movement used up more Him the
normal amount of oxygen, so that
he was forced to open the valves on
his tanks to two or three times their
normal flow. His span of further
life was thereby cut to ten or twelve
hours, if indeed he could keep him-
self warm for that long.
Why didn’t the people on the boat
do something!
He was just about to indulge in
one of his frantic fits of despair,
when he heard ' or felt — the two
senses being strangely commingled
in his present situation — a clank or
thump upon the top of his bathy-
sphere. Instantly hope flooded him.
Could it be that the one chance in
a million had actually happened, and
that a grapple from the boat above
had actually found him?
With feverish expectation, he
pressed the button of his little elec-
154
ASTOUNDING STORIES
trie pocket flashlight, and sent its
feeble beam out through one of the
quartz-glass windows into the blue-
black depths beyond.
No hookB in front of this window.
He tried the others. No hooks there,
either. But he did see plenty of
the superhuman fish. Eighteen of
them, he counted, in sight at one
time. And also two huge snake-like
creatures with crested backs and
maned heads, veritable sea-serpents.
As there was nothing the young
man could do to assist in the grap-
pling of his sphere by his friends in
the boat above, he devoted his time
to jotting down a detailed descrip-
tion of these two new beasts and
of their behavior.
One of the sharks appeared to be
leading or driving them up to the
bathysphere ; and when they got
close enough, Abbot was surprised
to see that they wore what appeared
to be a harness I
T HE clanking upon the bathy-
sphere continued, and now the
young man learned its cause. It was
not the grapple hooks from his ship,
but chains — chains which the man-
armed sharks were wrapping around
the bathysphere.
Two more of the harnessed sea-
serpents swam into view, and these
two were hitched to a flat cart: an
actual cart with wheels. The chains
were attached to the harness of the
original two beasts; they swam up-
ward and disappeared from view;
and the sphere slowly rose from the
mucky bottom of the sea, to be low-
ered again squarely on top of the
cart. The cart jerked forward, and
a journey over the ocean floor be-
gan.
Then the little pocket torch
dimmed to a dull red glow, and the
scene outside faded gradually from
view. Abbot switched off the now
useless light and set to work with
scientific precision to record all these
unbelievable events.
In his interest and excitement, he
had forgotten the ever-increasing
cold; but gradually, as he wrote, the
frigidity of his surroundings was
forced on his consciousness. He
turned on more oxygen, and exer-
cised frantically. Meanwhile the cart,
carrying his bathysphere, bumped
along over an uneven road.
From time to time, he tried his
almost exhausted little light, but its
dim red beam was completely ab-
sorbed by the blue of the ocean
depths, and he could make out noth-
ing except two bulking indistinct
shapes, writhing on ahead of him.
Finally even this degree of visibil-
ity failed, and he could see abso-
lutely nothing outside.
He was now bo chilled and numb
that he could no longer write. With
a last effort, he noted down that fact,
and then put the book away in its
rack.
He began to feel drowsy. Rous-
ing himself, he turned on more oxy-
gen. The effect was exhilaration and
a feeling of silly joy. He began to
babble drunkcnly ! to himself. His
head swam. His mind was in a daze.
I T seemed hours later when he
awoke. Ahead of him in the dis-
tance there was i a dim pale-blue
light, against which there could be
seen, in silhouette, the forms of the
two serpentine steeds and their fish-
like drivers. Abbot’s hands and feet
were completely numb, but his bead
was clear.
As they drew nearer to the light,
it gradually took form, until it
turned out to be the mouth of a
cave. The cart entered it.
Down a long tunnel they pro-
gressed, the light getting brighter
and brighter as they advanced. The
color of the light became a golden
green. The rough stone walls of the
tunnel could now be seen; and fi-
nally there appeared, ahead, two
semicircular doors, swung back
against the sides of the passage.
THE DANGER FROM THE DEEP
1SS
Beyond these doors, the tunnel
wells were smooth and erectly cy-
lindrical, and on the ceiling there
were many luminous tubes, which
lit up the place as brightly as day-
light The cart came to a stop.
The young scientist could now see
with surprising distinctness his cap-
tors and their serpentine steeds, and
even the details of the chains and
the harness. He tried to pick up his
diary, so as to jot down some points
which he had theretofore missed;
but his hands were too numb. But
at least he could keep on observing;
so he glued his eyes to the thick
quartz window-pane once more.
A short distance ahead in the pas-
sage there was another pair of doors.
Presently these swung open and the
cavalcade moved forward. Five or
six successive pairs of doors were
passed in this manner, and then the
sea-serpents began to thrash about
and become almost unmanageable. It
was evident that some change not
to their liking had taken place in
their surroundings.
A T last, as one of the portals
swung open, young Abbot saw
what appeared to be four deep-sea
diving-suits. Could these suits con-
tain human beings? And if so, who?
It semed incredible, for no diving-
suit had ever been devised in which
a man could descend to the depth
of one mile, and live.
These four figures, whatever they
were, came stolidly forward and took
charge of the cart. One of the
sharks swam up to them and ap-
peared to talk to them with its hands.
Then the sharks unhitched the two
sea-serpents and led them to the
rear, and Abbot saw them no more.
The four divers picked up the
.chains, and slowly towed the cart
forward, their clumsy, ponderous
movements contrasting markedly
with the swift and sure swishings
which had characterized the man-
sharks and their snake-Ilke steeds.
Several more pairs of doors were
passed, and then there met them
four figures in less cumbersome div-
ing-suits, like those ordinarily used
by men just below the surface of the
sea. One of the deep-sea divers then
pressed his face close to the outside
of one of the windows of the bathy-
sphere, as though to take a look in-
side; but the four newcomers waved
him away, and hurriedly picked up
the chains. Nevertheless, in that
brief instant. Abbot had seen within
the head-piece of the diver what ap-
peared to be a bearded human face.
Several more pairs of doors were
passed. The four deep-sea divers
floundered along beside the cart,
quite evidently having more and
more difficulty of locomotion as each
successive doorway was passed, until
finally they lay down and were left
behind.
At last the procession entered a
section of tunnel which was square,
instead of circular, and in which
there was a wide shelf along one
side about three feet above the floor.
The four divers then dropped the
chains, and one by one took a look
at Abbot through his window.
And he at the same time took a
most interested look at them.
They had unmistakable human
faces I
j
H E must be dreaming! For even
if Osborne jwas right about his
supposed super-race at the bottom
of the sea, this race could not be
human, for the pijessures here would
be entirely too great. No human be-
ing could possibly stand two thou-
sand pounds per | square inch I
Having satisfied their curiosity,
the four divers pulled themselves up
onto the shelf, ^nd sat there in a
row with their legs hanging over.
Abbot glanced upward at the cell-
ing lights, but these had become
strangely blurred.; There seemed to
be an opaque barrier above him, and
this barrier seemed to be slowly de-
1S6
ASTOUNDING STORIES
scending. The- lights blurred out
completely, and were replaced by a
diffused illumination over the entire
ripply barrier. And then it dawned
on the young man that this descend-
ing sheet of silver was the surface
of the water. He was in a lock,
and the water was being pumped out.
The surface settled about the hel-
mets of the divers, and their helmets
disappeared; then their shoulders
and the rest of them. At last it
reached the level of Abbot’s window.
The divers could again be seen, and
among them on the shelf there stood
a half dozen naked bearded men,
clad only in loin-cloths. They had
evidently entered the lock while the
water was subsiding. '
T HESE men unbuckled the hel-
mets of the divers and helped
them out, and then splashed down
into the water and peered in through
the windows of the bathysphere.
Presently some of them left through
a door at the end of the platform,
but soon reappeared with staging,
which they set up around the sphere.
Then, climbing on top, they got to
work on the man-hole cover.
As George Abbot realized their
purpose, he became frantic. Al-
though these men appeared to be
human, just like himself, yet his
scientifically-trained mind told him
that they must be of some very spe-
cial anatomical structure, in order
to be able to withstand the immense
pressures at the bottom of the Pa-
cific. It was all right for them to
be out there, but it would be fatal
to him I
And then the heavy circular door
above him began slowly to revolve.
ThiB was terrible! In a moment
the crushing pressures of the depths
would come seeping in. Rising
unsteadily upon his knees, the young
man tried with his fingers to resist
the rotation of the door; but it con-
tinued to turn.
Yet no pressure could be felt. The
door became completely unscrewed.
It was pried up, and slid off the top
of the bathysphere, to crash upon
the floor outside. Inquisitive bearded
faces peered down through the hole.
Young Abbot slumped to the cold
bottom of the sphere and stared back
at them. He was saved; incredibly
saved! These were real people, the
air was real air and he must therefore
be on the surface of the earth, in-
stead of at the bottom of the Pa-
cific as he had imagined i With a
sigh of relief, he fainted. .
W HEN he came to his senses
again, he was lying in a bed
in a small room. Bending over him
was the sweetest feminine face that
he had ever seen.
The girl seemed to be about twen-
ty years of age. She was clad in
a clinging robe of some filmy green
substance. Her hair was honey-
brown, short and curly, and her fore-
head high and intelligent. Her eyes,
an indescribable shade of deep violet,
were matchlessly Bet off by her ivory
skin.
The young man smiled up at her,
and she smiled back. Thus far it
had not occurred to him to wonder
where he was, or why. No recollec-
tion of his recent Btrange adven-
tures came to him. To him this wa
an exotic dream, from which he did
not care to pwake.
She spoke. Her words were un-
intelligible, and unlike any language
which George Abbot knew or had
even heard; and he was an accom-
plished linguist in addition to his
other attainments.
And her words were not all that
was strange about her speech, for the
very tones of her voice sounded com-
pletely unhuman, although not dis-
pleasing. Her talk had a metallic
ring to it, like the brassy blare of
temple gongs, and yet was so smooth
and subdued as to be sweeter than
any sound that the young scientist
had ever heard before.
THE DANGER PROM THE DEEP
IS7
“Beautiful dream fairy," replied
the enraptured young man, “I
haven’t the slightest idea what you
ire saying, but keep right on. I
like it.”
His own voice sounded crass and
crude compared to hers. At his first
words she gave a start of surprise,
but thereafter the sound did not ap-
pear to grate on her ears.
r lEN one of the bearded men
in loin-cloths entered, and he
and the girl talked together, quite
evidently about their patient. The
man’s voice had the same strange
metallic quality to it as that of the
girl, but was deeper, so that it
boomed with the rich notes of a bell.
At the sight of the man, young
Abbot's memory swept back, and he
remembered the adventure of his div-
ing-sphere, and its capture, one mile
down, by the strange shark-fish with
human hands and arms. But how he
hsd reached the surface of the earth
again, he couldn’t figure out. Nor
did he particularly care.
The strange man withdrew, and
the girl sat down beside the bed and
smiled at Abbot. He smiled back at
her.
Presently another girl entered and
called, “Milli I”
The girl beside the bed started,
and looking up asked some question,
to which the other replied.
The newcomer brought in some
strange warm food in a covered dish
and then withdrew. The first girl
proceeded to feed her patient.
After the meal, which tasted un-
like anything which the young man
had ever eaten before, the beautiful
nurse again essayed conversation
with him. She Beemed perplexed
and a bit frightened that he could
not understand her words. Somehow,
the young man sensed that this girl
bad never heard any other language
than her own, and that she did not
even know that other languages
existed.
S TRENGTHENED by his food.
he determined to set about
learning her language as soon as pos-
sible. So he pointed at her and
asked, “Milli?”
She nodded, and spoke some word
which he took for “yes.”
Then he pointed to himself and
said, “George."
She understood, but the. word was
a difficult one for her to duplicate
in the metallic tongue of her people.
She made several attempts, until he
laughingly spoke her word for
“yes.”
Then he pointed to other objects
about the room. She gave him the
names of these, but he could easily
see that she felt that, if he did not
know the names for all these com-
mon things, there must be something
the matter with him.
He wondered how he could make
her understand that there were other
languages in the world than her own;
and then he remembered the sharks
with their hands and what he had
taken to be their sign language. Per-
haps Milli at least knew of the ex-
istence of the sign language. This
would afford a parallel; for if she
realized that there were two lan-
guages in the world, might there not
be three?
So ^bbot made some meaningless
signs with his fingers. Milli quite
evidently was accustomed to this
kind of talk, but she was further per-
plexed to find that George talked gib-
berish with his hands as well as with
his mouth.
She made some signs with her
hands, and then said something
orally. Young Abbot instantly
pointed to her mouth, and held up
one Aver; then to her hands, and
held op two ; then to his own mouth,
and held up three, at the same time
speaking a sentence of English. In-
stantly she caught on; there were
three languages in the world. And
thereafter she no longer regarded
him as crazy.
158
ASTOUNDING STORIES
For several hours she taught him.
Then another ' meal was brought,
after which she left him, and the
lights went out.
H E awakened feeling thoroughly
rested and well. The lights
were on and Milli was beside him.
He asked for his clothes. They
were brought. Milli withdrew and
he put them on.
After breakfast, which they ate to-
gether, one of the bearded men came
and led him out through a number
of winding corridors into a larger
room, in which there) was a closed
spherical glass tank, about ten feet
in diameter, containing one of the
human sharks. Around the tank stood
five of the bearded men.
One of them proceeded to address
Abbot, but of course tfie young
American could not make out what
he was saying. This apparent lack
of intelligence seemed to exasperate
the man; and finally he turned to-
ward the tank, and engaged in a sign
language conference with the fish;
then turned back to Abbot again and
spoke to him very sternly.
But Abbot shook his head and re-
plied, “Milli. Bring Milli.”
One of the other men flashed a
look of triumph at their leader, and
laughed.
“Yes,” he added, “bring Milli.”
The leader scowled at him, and
some words were interchanged, but
it ended in Milli being sent for. She
apparently explained the situation to
the satisfaction of the fish, to the in-
tense glee of the man who had sent
for her, and to the rather complete
discomfiture of the leader of the five.
Abbot later learned that the
leader’s name was Thig, and that the
name of the gleeful man was Dolf.
The reception over, Milli led Ab-
bot back to his room.
T HERE ensued many days — very
pleasant days— of language in-
struction from Milli. Dolf and Thig
and others of the five came fre-
quently, to note his progress and to
talk with him and ask him questions.
A sitting room was provided for
him, adjoining his sleeping quarters.
Milli occupied quarters nearby.
Within a week he had mastered
enough of the language of these peo-
ple, for their strange history began
to be intelligible to him.
In spite of the fact that the air
here was at merely atmospheric pres-
sure, nevertheless this place was one
mile beneath the surface of the Pa-
cific. Milli and her people lived in
a city hollowed out of a reef of
rocks, reinforced against the terrific
weight of the water and filled with
laboratory-made air. They had never
been to the surface of the sea.
The fish with the human arms were
their creators and their masters.
Professor Osborne had been right.
The fish of the deep, having a head
start on the rest of the world, had
evolved to a perfectly unbelievable
degree of intelligence. Centuries ago
they had built for themselves the
exact analog of George Abbot’s
bathysphere, and in it they had mad?
much the same sort of exploring
trips to the surface that he had mad?
down into the deeps. But their
spheres had been constructed to keep
in, rather than to keep out, great
pressure.
Their scientists had gathered a
wealth of data as to conditions on the
surface, and had even seen and
studied human beings. But their in-
satiable scientific curiosity had led
them to want to know more about the
strange country above them and the
strange persons who inhabited it.
And so they set about breeding, in
their own laboratories, creatures
which should be as like as possible to
those whom they had observed on the
surface.
O F course, this experiment neces-
sitated their first setting up an
air-filled partial vacuum similar to
THE DANGER FROM THE DEEP
1S9
that which surrounds the earth. But
they had persisted. They had
brought down samples of air from
the surface of the sea, and had an-
alyzed and duplicated it on a large
scale.
Finally, through long years, they
had so directed — and controlled the
course of evolution in their breed-
cries, as first to be able to produce
creatures which could live in air at
low pressures, and then to evolve the
descendants of those creatures into
intelligent human beings.
Some of the lower types of this
evolutionary process, both in the di-
rect line of descent of man, and
■nong the collateral offshoots, had
h— n retained for food and other pur-
poses. Abbot, with intense scien-
tific interest, studied these specimens
in the zoo of the underwater city
where he was staying.
Plans had been in progress for
tome time, among the fish-folk and
their human subjects, to send an ex-
pedition to the surface. And now
the shark masters had fortunately
bsen able to secure alive sn actual
ipecimen of the surface folk—
sanely, George Abbot. The expe-
dition was accordingly postponed
rntil they could pump out of the
young scientist all the information
passible.
Abbot was naturally overjoyed at
the prospect. This would not only
|et him out of here — but think what
it would mean to science I
The plans of the sharks were en-
tirely peaceful. Furthermore there
me only about two hundred of their
liboratory-bred synthetic human
brings, and so these could constitute
ao menace to mankind. Accordingly
Is enthusiastically assured them that
they could depend upon the hearty
cooperation of the scientists of the
eater earth.
D URING all his stay so far in
this cave city. Abbot had been
permitted to come in contact only
with M illi, the members of the Com-
mittee of Five, and an occasional
guard or laboratory assistant. Yet,
in spite of the absence of personal
contacts with other members of this
strange race. Abbot was constantly
aware of a background of many peo-
ple and tense activity, which kept the
wheels of industry »nd domestic
economy turning in this undersea
city.
Although the young man readily
accustomed himself to the speech
and food and customs of this strange
race, his personal modesty and neat-
ness revolted at the loin-cloths and
beards of the men; and so, by special
dispensation, he was permitted to
wear his sailor suit and to shave.
The Committee of Five, who con-
stituted a sort of ruling body for
the city, interviewed him at length,
cross-examined him most skilfully
and took copious notes. But there
seemed to be a strange lack of com-
mon meeting ground b etween their
minds and bis, so that very often
they were forced to call on Milli
to act as an intermediary. The beau-
tiful young girl seemed able to
understand both George Abbot and
the leaders of her own people with
equal facility.
A number of specially constructed
submarines had already been built
to cany the expedition to the sur-
face. Before it came time to use
them. Abbot tried to paint as glow-
ing a picture as possible of life on
earth; but he found it necessary to
gloss over a great many things. How
could he explain and justify war,
liquor, crime, poverty, graft, and the
other evils to which constant ac-
quaintance has rendered the human
race so calloused?
H E was unable to deceive the
men of the deep. With their
super-intelligence, they relentlessly
unearthed from him all the salient
facts. And, as a result of their dis-
coveries, their initial friendly feel-
160
ASTOUNDING STORIES
ing for the world of men rapidly de-
veloped into supreme contempt.
But Abbot on the other hand de-
veloped a deep respect for them.
Their chemistry and their electrical
and mechanical devices amazed and
astounded him. They even were able
to keep sun-time and tell the seasons,
by means of gyroscopes!
Age was measured much as it is on
the surface. This fact was brought
to Abbot’s attention by the approach
of Milli’s twentieth birthday.
Strange to relate, she seemed to
dread the approach of that anniver-
sary, and finally told Abbot the rea-
son. "s
"It is the custom,” sa^d she, “when
a girl or a boy reaches twenty, to
give a very rigorous intelligence test.
In fact, such a test is given on every
birthday, but the one on the twen-
tieth is the hardest. So far, I have
just barely passed each test, which
fact marks me as of very low men-
tality indeed. And, if I fail this
time, they will kill me, so as to make
room for others who have a better
right to live.”
/ "Impossible I” exclaimed the young
Wn indignantly. “Why, you have a
better mind than those of many of
the leading scientists of the outer
world I”
“All the same,” she gloomily re-
plied, "it is way below standard for
down here.”
O N the day of the test, he did his
best to cheer her up. Dolf also
came — she seemed to be an especial
protege of his— end gave her his en-
couragement. He had been coaching
her heavily for the examinations for
some time previous.
But later in the day she returned
in tears to report to Abbot that she
had failed, and had only twenty-four
hours to live. Before he realized
what he was doing, Abbot had seized
her in his arms, and was pouring out
to her a love which up to that mo-
ment he had not realized existed.
Finally her sobbing ceased, and she
smiled through her tears.
“George, dear,” said yhe, "it is
worth dying, to know that you care
for me like this.”
“I won’t let them kill you!” as-
serted the young man belligerently.
“They owe me something for the as-
sistance which I am to give them on
their expedition. I shall demand
your life as the price of my coopera-
tion. Besides, you are the only one
of all your people who has brains
enough to understand what I tell
them about the outer earth. It is
they who are weak-minded; not
you!”
But she sadly shook her head.
“It would never do for you to spon-
sor me,” said she, “for it would
alienate my one friend in power,
Dolf. He loves me ; no, don’t scowl,
for I do not love him. But, for the
safety of both pf us, we must not let
him know of our love — yet.”
“‘Yet’?” exclaimed Abbot, “when
you have less than a day to live?”
“You have given me hope,” the girl
replied, “and also an idea. Dolf
promised to appeal to the other mem-
bers of the Five. I have just thought
of a good ground for his appeal;
namely, my ability to translate your
clumsy description into a form
suited to the high intelligence of our
superiors.”
“‘Clumsy’?” exclaimed the young
man a bit nettled.
“Oh, pardon me, dear. I'm so
sorry,” said she contritely. “I didn’t
mean to let it slip. And now I must
rush to Dolf and tell him my idea.”
“Don't let him make love to you,
though!" admonished Abbot gloom-
ily.
She kissed him lightly, and fled.
A HALF hour later she was back,
all smiles. The idea had gone
across big. Dolf, as the leader of the
projected expedition, had demanded
that Milli be brought along as liaison’
officer between them and their guide;
161
THE DANGER FROM THE DEEP
and the other four committeemen
had reluctantly acceded. The execu-
tion was accordingly indefinitely
postponed.
The young couple 6pent the eve-
ning making happy plans for their
life together on the outer earth, for
as soon as they should arrive in
America, Dolf would have no further
hold over them.
The next day, the Committee of
Five announced that, for a change,
they were going to give George Ab-
bot an intelligence test. He had rep-
resented himself as being one of the
scientists of the outer earth; accord-
ingly, they could gauge the caliber
of his fellow countrymen by deter-
mining his I. Q.
Milli was quite agitated when this
program was announced, but the or-
deal held no terrors for George Ab-
bot. Had he not taken many such
tests on earth and passed them
easily?
So he appeared before the Com-
mittee of Five with a rather cocky
air. He had yet to see an intelli-
gence test too tricky for him to eat
alive.
"Start him with something easy,”
suggested Dolf. “Perhaps they don’t
have tests on the outer earth. You
know, one gains a certain facility by
practice.”
“Milli didn’t, in spite of all the
practicing which you gave her,” ma-
liciously remarked Thig.
Dolf glowered at him.
“YT THAT is the cube root of
VV 378?” suddenly asked one
of the other members of the commit-
tee.
“Oh, a little over seven,” hazarded
Abbot.
"Come, come,” boomed Thig:
“give it to us exactly.”
"Well, seven-point-two, I guess.”
"Don’t guess. Give it exact, to
four decimal places.”
'“In my head?” asked Abbot in-
credulously.
“Certainly!” replied Thig. "Even
a child could do that. We're giving
you easy questions to start with.”
“Start him on square root,” sug-
gested Dolf kindly. “Remember he
isn’t used to these tests like our peo-
ple are.”
So they tried ' him with square
root, in which he turned out to be
equally dumb.
Abstract questions of physics and
chemistry, he did better on; but the
actual quantitative problems, which
they expected him to solve in his
head, stumped him completely.
Then they asked him about educa-
tion on earth, and the Qualifications
for becoming a scientist, and who
were the leaders in his field, and
what degrees they held, and what
one had to do to get those degrees,
etc. Finally they dismissed him.
Dolf then sent for Milli.
She was gone about an hour, and
returned to Abbott wide-eyed and in-
credulous.
“Oh, George,” said she, lowering
her voice, “Dolf tells me that your
intelligence is below that of a five-
year-old child ! Perhaps that is why
you and I get along so well together :
we are both morons.”
H E started to protest, but she si-
lenced him with a gesture and
hurried on, “I am not supposed to
tell you this, but I want you to know
that your examination to-day has re-
sulted in a complete change in their
plans for the expedition to the sur-
face. They have consulted with the
leaders of our masters, and they
agree with them.”
She was plainly agitated.
"What is it, dear?” asked Abbot,
with ominous foreboding.
Milli continued: "Early during
your test, when you demonstrated
that you couldn’t do the very sim-
plest mathematical problems in your
head, they began to doubt your boast-
ings that you are a scientist. But
you were so ingenuous in your an-
162
ASTOUNDING STORIES
■wen about conditions on the sur-
face, that finally their faith in your
honesty returned. If you are a scien-
tist among men, as they now believe,
then the average run of your peiople
must be mere animals. This ex-
plains what has puzzled them before ;
namely, how the people of the earth
tolerate poverty and unemployment
and crime, and disease ahd war."
“Well?”
“And so a mere handful of our peo-
ple, by purely peaceful means, could
easily make themselves the rulers of
the earth. Probably this would be
all for the best; but somehow, my
feelings tell me that it is not. I
know only too well what it is to be
an inferior among intelligent be-
ings ; bo will not your people be hap-
pier, left alone to their stupidity,
just as I would be?”
G EORGE ABBOT was crushed.
This frank acceptance by Milli
of the alleged fact that he was a mere
moron, was most humiliating. And
swiftly he realized what a real men-
ace to the earth, was this contem-
plated invasion from the deeps.
All that was worst in the world
above would taint these intellectual
giants of the undersea. They would
rise to supremacy, and then would
become rapacious tyrants over those
whom they would regard as being no
more than animals.
He had witnessed jealousies among
them down below. Might not these
jealousies flame into huge wars,
when translated to the world above?
Giants striving for mastery, using
the human cattle as cannon fodder!
He painted to the girl a word-pic-
ture of the horrible vision which he
foresaw.
The invasion must be stopped at
all costs! He and Milli must pit
their puny wits against these super-
men!
But what could they do? As they
were pondering this problem, a girl
entered their sitting room the same
who had brought Abbot’s breakfast
on his first day in the caves. MlIU
introduced George to the newcomer,
whose name was Romehl.
Romehl appeared so woebegone
that the young American ventured
to inquire if she too had been hav-
ing difficulty with one of her tests.
But that was not the trouble; hers
was rather of the heart.
About the same age as Milli, Ro-
mehl had recently passed her twen-
tieth birthday test and hence was
eligible to marry ; so she and a young
man named Hakin had requested the
fish-masters to give them the requi-
site permission. But their overlords
for some reason had peremptorily
denied the request. Romehl and Ha-
kin were desolate.
Y OUNG Abbott’s sympathies
were at once aroused.
“Can’t something be done?” he
started to ask.
But Milli silenced him with a
warning glance. “Of course not!” she
said. “Who are we to question the
judgment of our all-knowing mas-
ters?”
Romehl had really come to' Milli
just to pour her troubles into a
friendly ear, rather than because she
hoped to get any helpful ideas. So
she had a good cry, and finally left,
somewhat comforted.
George and Milli then took up
again the problem of saving the
outer earth from the threatened in-
vasion. Milli suggested that they go
peaceably with the expedition, and
then warn the authorities of America
at the first opportunity after their
arrival; but Abbot pointed out that
this would merely result in their
both being shut up in some insane
asylum, as no one would believe such
a crazy story as theirs.
The time for lights to be put out
arrived without their thinking of any
better idea.
Next day Milli spent considerable
time with Dolf, and on bar return
THE DANGER FROM THE DEEP
163
excitedly informed Abbot that he
had evolved a most diabolical plot.
There were sufficient quantities of
explosives in storage to blast a hole
through the wall of the caves, letting
in the sea and killing everyone in the
city. Dolf planned to set this off
with a time fuse, upon the departure
of the expedition. Thus Thig and
the people who were left behind —
about two-thirds of the total popu-
lation of the city — would be de-
stroyed, and the fish would have no
one to send after Dolf and his follow-
ers to dictate to them on the upper
earth.
Relieved of the thraldom of the
fish, Dolf could make himself Em-
peror of the World, and rule over
the human cattle, with Milli at his
side as Empress. An alluring pro-
gram — from Dolf’s point of view.
“T DIDN’T expect such treason
I even from Dolf I” exclaimed the
young American. "We must tell
Thigl”
“What good would that do?” re-
monstrated the girl., “If you failed
to convince Thig, Dolf would make
an end of us both. And if you con-
vinced Thig, it would mean the end
of Dolf, whose influence is all that
keeps me alive. We must think of
something else.”
“Right, as always,” replied Abbot.
A growl came from the doorway.
It was Dolf, his bearded face black
with wrath.
"So?” he sputtered. "Treachery,
eh?”
He whistled twice and two guards
appeared.
‘Take them to the prison!” he
raged, indicating Abbot and Milli.
“Our expedition will have to do
without a guide. I have learned
enough of the American language to
make a good start, and I guess I can
pick up another guide when we reach
the surface." Then, bending close to
the frightened girl, he whispered,
“And another Empress.”
The guards hustled them away and
locked them up. As an added pre-
caution, a sentinel was posted in
front of each cell door.
Abbot immediately got busy.
“Can you get word for me at once
to Thig?” he whispered to the man
on guard.
“Perhaps,” replied that individual
non-committally.
“Then tell him,” said Abbot, “that
I have proof that Dolf is planning to
destroy this city behind him, and
never return from the surface."
The sentry became immediately
agitated.
“So you know thiB?” he exclaimed.
“How did it leak out? But — through
Milli, of course. And the guard on
her cell is not a membei of the ex-
pedition! Curses! I must get word
to Dolf, and have that guard changed
at once.”
And he darted swiftly away.
T HE young prisoner was plunged
into gloom. Now he'd gone and
done it! Why hadn’t he first made
appropriate inquiries of his guard?
A new guard appeared in front of
the door.
“Are you going on the expedi-
tion?” asked Abbot.
“Yes, worse luck,” replied the
guard.
The prisoner forgot his own
gloom, in his surprise at the gloomi-
ness of the other. '■
“Don’t you want to go?” he ex-
claimed incredulously.
“No.”
"Why not?”
“Do you know Romehl?” asked
the guard.
“Yes,” Abbot replied.
“Well, that’s why.”
“Then you must be Hakin!” ex-
claimed Abbot, with sudden under-
standing.
“Yes,” replied the other dully.
“You are going on the expedition,
and Romehl is not?”
“Quite correct.”
164
ASTOUNDING STORIES
“Say, look here !" exclaimed Abbot,
and then he launched into the de-
■cription of a plan, which juat that
moment had occurred to him, for
him, Killi, Romehl and Hakin to
make thenr getaway ahead of the ex-
pedition — in fact, that very night—
and to set off the time-fuse before
leaving.
It turned out that Hakin knew
where the explosives were planted,
and where the submarines were kept,
and even how to operate them. He
eagerly accepted the plan; and when
next relieved as sentihel, he harried
away to inform Romety.
Three hours later he was back on
post. Quickly he explained to his
prisoner all about the workings of
the submarines of the expedition.
The lights-out bell rang, gnd all the
city became dark, except for dim
lights in the passageways. Hakin at
once unlocked the door of Abbot’s
cell, and together the two young men
sneaked down the corridor to the cell
where Mitli was confined.
Sile^'v Hakin and Abbot sprang
upon the guard and throttled him;
then released Milli. There was no
time for more than a few hurried
words of explanation before the
three of them left the prison and
made for the locks of die subter-
ranean canal, picking up Romehl at
a preappointed spot on the way.
T HE canal locks were unguarded,
as well as the storerooms of the
submarines. Each of the rooms held
two subs, and could open onto the
second lock and ' be separately
flooded.
The submarines were of steel as
thick as Abbot’s bathysphere. Their
shape was that of an elongated rain
drop, with fins. In the pointed tip
of their tails were motors which
could operate at any pressure. At
the front end were q uarts windows.
In the top fin was an expanding de-
vice which could be filled with buoy-
ant gas, produced by che mi cals, when
the craft neared the surface. Bach
submarine also contained a radio set,
so tuned as to be capable of opening
and closing the radio-controlled
gates of the locks. Each would car-
ry comfortably two or three persons.
Having picked out two submarines
and found them to be in order, Hafcia
sneaked back into the corridor ta
set off the time-fuse, leaving Us
three companions in the dark in the
storeroom. Abbot put a protecting
arm around Milli, while Rom^hi
snuggled close to her other side.
Their hearts were all racing madly
with excitement, and this was inten-
sified when they beard Hakin talking
with someone just outside their door.
Then Hakin returned unexpect-
edly.
"Something terrible has hap-
paned I” he breathed. “The explosives
have been discovered and are gone.
One of the expedition men fans just
informed me. Someone must have
gotten word to Thig — *
“Why, I did,” interrupted Milli.
“I told my guard, just before they
came and changed him.”
Abbot groaned.
Hakin continued hurriedly; “8a
Dolf plans to leave at once. He is
already rounding up his followers.
Come on I We must get out ahesd
of him I”
An uproar could be heard drawing
near in the corridor outside. Abbot
opened the door and peered out;
then shut it again and whispered,
“The two factions are fighting al-
ready.”
“Then come on!” exclaimed Hakin.
A S he spoke be turned on the
lights, wedged the door tight
against its gaskets and threw the
switch which started the water seep-
ing into the s t oreroom; then he led
Romehl hurriedly to one of the twe
submarines, while George and Milli'
rushed to the other. Heavy blosm
The water rapidly roee about thorn,
THE DANGER FROM THE DEEP
165
and the four friends crawled inside
the two machines and clamped the
lids tight. Then they waited for suf-
ficient depth, so that they could get
under way.
The water rose above their bow
windows, but suddenly and inexplic-
ably it began to subside again. A man
waded by around the bow of Abbot’s
machine.
"They’ve crashed in the door, and
are pumping out the water again!”
eaclaimed Abbot. “We're trapped !”
"Not yet!” grimly replied the girl
at his side. “Can you work the radio
door controls?”
“Yes.”
“Then quick 1 Open the doors into
the lock I”
He pressed a button. Ahead of
them two gates swung inward, fol-
lowed by a deluge of water.
"Come on!” spoke the girl. “Full
speed ahead, before the water gets
too low.”
Abbot did so. Out into the lock
they sped, in the face of the surg-
ing current. Then Abbot pushed an-
other button to close the gates be-
hind them. But the water continued
to fall, and they grounded before
they reached the end of the lock.
Quite evidently the rush of the cur-
rent had kept the doors from clos-
ing behind them. The city was being
flooded through the broken door of
the storeroom.
But Abbot opened the next gates,
and again they breasted the incom-
ing torrent. This time, although the
level continued to fall, their craft
did not quite ground.
"They must have got the gates shut
behind us at last,” said he, as he
opened the next set and pressed on.
A ND then he had an idea. Why
not omit to close any further
gates behind him? As a result, the
•ea pressure would eventually break
down the inmost barriers, and' de-
stroy the city as effectively as DolFs
bomb would have done. But he said
nothing to Milli of this plan: she
might wish to save her people.
Gate after gate they passed. This
was too simple. A few more locks
and they would be out in open watei.
The submarine of Hakin and Romehl
swept by — evidently to let George
and Milli know their presence — and
then dropped behind again. But was
it their two friends after all? It
might have been some enemy ! They
could not be sure.
This uncertainty cast a chill of
apprehension over them, which was
immediately heightened by the sud-
den extinguishing of the overhead
lights of the tunnel. Abbot pressed
the radio button for the next set of
locks, but they did not budge.
“What can be the matter?” he
asked frantically.
“My people must have turned off
the electric current,” Milli replied.
“The gates won’t open without elec-
tricity to feed the motors. WeVe
trapped again.”
For a moment they lay stunned by
a realization that their escape was
blocked.
“Kiss me good-by, dear,” breathed
Milli. "This is the end.”
As the young man reached over to
take her in his arms, the submarine
was suddenly lifted up and spun'
backward, end over end; then tum-
bled and bumped along, as though it
were a chip on an angry mountain
torrent.
Stunned and bruised and bleeding,
the young American finally lost con-
sciousness. . . .
W HEN he came to his senses
again, his first words were,
“Milli, where are you?”
“My darling!” breathed a voice at
his side. "Are you all right?”
"Yes,” he replied. “Where are we?
What has happened?”
“The entire system of locks must
have crashed in and flooded the city,” "
said she.
Instantly Abbott’s mind grasped
166
ASTOUNDING STORIES
the explanation of this occurrence:
their leaving open ao many gates be-
hind them had made it impossible for
the few remaining gates ahead to
withstand the terrific pressures of
the ocean depths, and they had
crumpled. But he did not tell Milli
his part in this.
She continued, "I was pretty badly
shaken up myself, but I've got this
boat going again, and we’re on our
way out of the tunnel. See — I've
found out how to work our search-
light."
He looked. A broad beam of light
from their bow, illuminated the tun-
nel ahead of them.
Presently another beam appeared,
shooting by them from behind.
“Hakin and Romehl!” exclaimed
the girl. “Then they’re safe, too!”
The tunnel walls grew rough, then
disappeared. They were out in the
open sea at last, although still one
mile beneath the surface.
But in front of them was an angry
seething school of the man-sharks,
clearly illumined by the two rays of
light. Behind the sharks were a
score or more of serpentine steeds.
The sharks saw the two submarines
and charged down upon them; but
Milli, with great presence of mind,
shut off her searchlight and swung
sharply to the left.
“Up I Up!” urged the young man,
ao she turned the craft upward.
O N and on they went, with no in-
terference. Presently they
turned the light on again, so as to see
what progress they were making. But
they were making absolutely none!
They were merely standing on their
tail. They had reached a height of
such relatively low pressure that it
took all the churning of their pro-
peller just merely to counteract the
great weight of their submarine.
Abbot switched on their chemical
gas supply, and as their top fin ex-
panded into a ballon they again be-
gan to rise.
One thing, however, perplexed the
young man: the water about him
seemed jet black, rather than blue.
They must by now be close to the
surface of the sect, where at least a
twilight blue should be visible. Even
at the one mile depth in his bathy-
sphere, the water had been brilliant,
yet here, almost at the surface, he
could see absolutely nothing.
He switched on the searchlight
again to make sure that their window
wasn't clouded over ; but it wasn't.
Then suddenly a rippling veil of
pale silver appeared ahead; then a
blue-black sky and twinkling stars.
They had reached the surface, and it
was night.
He pointed out the stars to the
girl at his Bide, then swung the nose
of the submarine around and showed
her the moon.
Where next? George Abbot picked
out his position by the stare and
headed east. East across the Pacific
toward America.
B UT soon he noticed that their
little craft was dropping be-
neath the surface. He kept heading
up more and more; he threw the
lever for more and more chemical
gas; yet still they continued to
sink.
“Milli!” he exclaimed, “we've got
to get out of here I”
She clutched hiip in fear, for to
her the pressure of the open sea
meant death, certain death. But he
pushed her firmly away, and un-
damped the lid of the submarine. In
another instant he had hauled her
out and was battling his way to the
surface, while their little boat sunk
slowly beneath them.
Milli was an experienced swimmer,
for the undersea folk enjoyed the
privilege of a large indoor pool. As
soon as she found that the open ses
did not kill her, she became calm.
Side by side they floated in the
moonlight.. The sky began to pink
in the east. Dawn came, the first
THE DANGER FROM THE DEEP
167
dawn that Milli had ever seen.
Suddenly she called George’s at-
tention to two bobbing heads some
distance away in the path of light
the rising sun made on the ocean.
“Hakin and Romehl I” he ex-
claimed. Long since they had given
them up for dead ; but evidently fate
bad treated them in much the same
way as themselves.
And a moment later his own shlt-
stung eyes noticed a long gray shape
to one side.
As the day brightened, Abbot sud-
denly noticed a large bulking shape
nearby. t ,
It was his own boat!— the one
which had lowered him into the
depths in his bathysphere so many
weeks and weeks Bgol Evidently it
was still sticking around, grappling
for his long dead body.
"Come on, dear,” said he, and side
by side they swam over to it.
He helped her up the ship’s ladder.
The ship’s cook sleepily stuck bis
head out of the galley door.
“Hullo, Mike,” sang out George
Abbot merrily to the astonished man.
“I’ve brought company for break-
fast. And there’ll be two more when
we can lower a boat I”
IN THE NEXT ISSUE
THE SARGASSO OF SPACE
A Splendid Story of Interplanetary Space
By Edmond Hamilton
THE COPPER -CLAD WORLD
A Complete Novelette of Adventure
on the Second Satellite of Jupiter
By Harl Vincent
BROOD OF THE DARK MOON
Part Two of the Thrilling Current Novel
By Charles Willard Diffin
Others, of Course
AND THERE WILL BE AN ANNOUNCEMENT
OF GREATEST INTEREST AND IMPORTANCE
TO EVERYONE!
(. A Sequel to “Dark Moon”)
BEGINNING A FOUR-PART NOVEL
By Charles Willard Diffin
violet perme-
able crystal, the
warm rays struck
upon smooth walls
the color of which
CHAPTER I changed from hot reds to cool yel-
„ low or gray or to soothing green, as
he Message the Directing Surgeon might order.
’ N a hospital in Vienna, In a An elusive blending of tones now
room where sunlight flooded seemed pulsing with life; surely
through ultra- __ even a flickering
t perms- Oic, mr ckat, Walt and Ciaa* flame of vitality
tal, the ara limited i a wild ride to the would be blown
s struck Dark ies** — ka* tku tiins tboy »° into warm living-
.. „ m pruonen of their deadly enemy ,
ith walls Schwi tiMM. ness in such a
rf which __ place.
M pruonen of their deadly enemy
Srkwai frmans.
168
He landed erne bUm —
the nearest fete*.
Even the chart case in the wall flowed past a bandaged figure in the
glittered with the same dean, bril- bed below — a silent figure and un-
liant hues from its glass and metal moving, as one for whom time has
door. The usual revolving paper ceased. But the surgeons of the
disks showed white beyond the Allied Hospital at Vienna are
glass. They were moving; and the clever.
ink lines grew to tell a story of tern- 10:41 — 10:42 — The bandaged fig-
perature and respiration and of ure stirred uneasily on a snow-
every heart-beat. white bed. . . .
On the identification-plate a name
appeared and a date: “Chet Bullard A NURSE was beside him in an
— 23 years. Admitted: August 10, /l instant. Was her patient about
1973.” And below that the ever- to recover consciousness? She ex-
changing present ticked into the amined the bandages that covered
past in silent minutes: “August 15, a ragged wound in his side, where
1973; World Standard Time: 10:38 all seemed satisfactory To all ap-
—10:39 — 10:40 — ” pearances the man who had moved
For five days the minutes had was unconscious stiil; the nurse
trickled into a rivulet of time that could not know of the thought im-
169
170
ASTOUNDING STORIES
pressions, blurred at first, then
gradually clearing, that were flash*
ing through his mind.
Flashing; yet, to the man who
struggled to comprehend them,
they passed laggingly in review:
one picture followed another with
exasperating slowness. . . .
Where was he? What had hap-
pened? He was hardly conscious of
his own identity. . . .
There was a ship ... he held the
controls . . . they were flying low.
. . . One hand reached fumblingly
beneath the soft coverlet to search
for a triple star that should be
upon his jacket. A triple star: the
insignia of a Master Pilot of the
World!— and with the movement
there came clearly a realization of
himself. — .
Chet Bullard, Master Pilot; he
was Chet Bullard . . . and a wall
of water was sweeping under him
from the ocean to wipe out the
great Harkness Terminal buildings.
It was Harkins — Walt Hark-
ness — from whom he had snatched
the controls. . . To fly to the
Dark Moon, of course —
What nonsense was that? .
No, it was true; the Dark Moon
had raised the devil with things on
Earth. How slowly the
thoughts camel Why couldn’t he
remember? .
Dark Moon ! — and they were flying
through space. They had con-
quered space; they were landing
on the Dark Moon that was bril-
liantly alight. Walt Harkness had
set the ship down beautifully—
T HEN, crowding upon one an-
other in breath-taking haste,
came clear recollection of past ad-
ventures :
They were upon the Dark Moon
—and there was the girl, Diane.
They must save Diane. Harkness
had gone for the ship. A savage,
half-human shape was raising a
hairy arm to drive a spear toward
Diane, and he, Chet, was leaping
before her. He felt again the lan-
cet-pain of that blade. .
And now he was dying — yes, he
remembered it now — dying in the
night on a great, sweeping surface
of frozen lava. . . It was only a
moment before' that i he had opened
his eyes to see Harkness’ strained
face and the agonized look of Diane
as the two leaned a^ove him. . . .
But now he felt stronger. He must
see them again. j.
He opened his eyes for another
look at his companions — and, in-
stead of black, star-pricked night
on a distant globe, there was das-
zling sunlight. No desolate lava-
flow, this; no thousand fires that
flared and smoked from their
fumeroles in the dark. And, instead
of Harkness and the girl, Diane,
leaning over him there was a nurse
who laid one cool hand upon his
blond headland who spoke sooth-
ingly to him of keeping quiet. He
was to take it easy; — he would un-
derstand later — and everything was
all right. . . . And with this as-
surance Chet Bullard drifted again
into sleep.
|
T HE blurring memories had lost
their distortionjs a week later,
as he sat before a broad window
in his room and looked out over
the housetops of Viienna. Again he
was himselfl Chet [Bullard, with a
Master Pilot's rating ; and he let
his eyes follow understandingly the
moving picture of the World out-
side. It was good [to be part of a
world whose every movement he
understood.
Those cylinders with stubby wings
that crossed and recrossed the sky;
their sterns showed a jet of thin
vapor where a continuous explosion
of detonite threw them through fjie
air. He knew them all : the pleasure
craft, the big, red-bellied freight-
ers, the sleek liners, whose multiple
helicopters spun dazzlingly above
BROOD OF TUB DARK MOON
m
as they sank down through the
jhaft of pale-green light that
marked a descending area.
That one would be the China
Hail. Her under-ports were open
before the hold-down clamps had
gripped her; the mail would pour
out in an avalanche of pouches
where smaller mailships waited to
distribute the cargo across the land.
And the big fellow taking off,
her hull banded with blue, was one
of Schwartzmann's linen. He won-
dered what had become of
Schwartzmann, the man who had
tried to rob Harkness of his ship;
who had brought the patrol ships
upon them in an effort to prevent
their take-off on that wild trip.
For that matter, what had become
of Harkness? Chet Bullard was
seriously disturbed at the absence
of any word beyond the one mes-
sage that had been waiting for him
when he regained consciousness. He
drew that message from a pocket of
his dressing gown and read it
again:
“Chet, old fellow, lie low.
S has vanished. Keans mischief.
Think best not to see you or
reveal your whereabouts until
our position firmly established.
Have concealed. ship. Remember,
S will stop at nothing. Trying
to discredit us, but the gas I
brought will fix all that. Get
yourself well. We are planning
to go back, of course. Walt.”
Chet returned the folded message
to his pocket. He arose and walked
about the room to test his return-
ing strength; to remain idle was be-
coming increasingly difficult. He
wanted to see Walter H arkn e ss ,
talk with him, plan for their re-
turn to the wonder-world they had
found.
I NSTEAD he dropped again into
his chair and touched a knob on
the newscaster beside him. A voice.
hushed to the requirements of these
hospital precincts spoke softly of
market quotations in the far cor-
ners of the earth. He turned the
dial irritably and set it on “World
New s G eneral." The name of
Harkness came from the instru-
ment to focus Chet’s attention.
“Harkness makes broad claims,”
the voice was saying. “Vienna
physicists ridicule his pretensions.
, “Walter Harkness, formerly of
New York, proprietor of Harkness
Terminals, whose great buildings
near New York were destroyed in
the Dark Moon wave, claims to have
reached and returned from the Dark
Moon.
“Nearly two months have passed
since the new satellite crashed into
the gravitational field of Earth, its
coming manifested by earth shocks
and a great tidal wave. The globe,
as we know, was invisible. Al-
though still unseen, and only a
black circle that blocks out distant
stars, it is visible in the telescopes
of the astronomers; its distance and
its orbital motion have been deter-
mined.
“And now this New Yorker
claims to have pentrated space;
to have landed on the Dark Moon;
and to have returned to Earth.
Broad claims, indeed, especially so
in view of the fact that Harkness
refuses to submit his ship for ex-
amination by the Stratosphere Con-
trol Board. He has filed notice of
ownership, thus introducing some
novel legal technicalities, but, since
space-travel is still a dream of the
future, there will be none to dis-
pute his daimB.
“Of immediate interest is Hark-
ness’ claim to have discovered a
gas that is fatal to the serpents of
space. The monsters that appeared
when the Dark Moon came and that
attacked ships above the Repelling
Area are still there. All flying is
confined to the low er levels; fast
world-routes are disorganized.
172
ASTOUNDING STORIES
"Whether or not this gas, of
which Harkness has a sample, came
from the Dark Moon or from some
laboratory on. Earth is of no par-
ticular importance. Will it destroy
the space-serpents? If it does this,
our hats are off to Mr. Walter
Harkness; almost will we be in-
clined to believe the rest of his
story— or to laugh with him over
one of the greatest hoaxes ever
attempted.”
Chet had been too intent upon
the newscast to heetf an opening
door at his back. . . .
“TTOW about it, Chet?” a voice
XI was asking. "Would you
call it a hoax or the rqal thing?”
And a girl’s voice chimed in with
exclamations of delight at sight of
the patient, so evidently recovering.
"Diane I” Chet exulted, " — and
Walt) — you old son-of-a-gun I” He
found himself clinging to a girl’s
soft hand with one of his, while
with the other he reached for that
of her companion. But Walt Hark-
ness’ arm went about his shoulders
instead.
“I’d like to hammer you plenty,”
Harkness was saying, “and I don’t
even dare give you a friendly slam
on the back. How’s the side where
they got you with the spear?—
and how are you? How soon will
you be ready to start back? What
about — ”
Diane Uelacouer raised her one
free hand to stop the flood of ques-
tions. “My dear,” she protested,
“give Chet a chance. He must be
dying for information.”
“I was dying for another reason
the last time I saw you,” Chet re-
minded her, “ — up on the Dark
Moon. But it seems that you got
me back here in time for repairs.
And now what?” His nurse came
into the room with extra chairs;
Chet waited till sne was gone be-
fore he repeated; “Now what?
When do we go back?”
Harkness did not answer at once.
Instead he crossed to the newscaster
in its compact, metal case. The
voice was still speaking softly; at
a touch of a switch it ceased, and
in the silence came the soft rush of
sound that meant the telautotype
had taken up its work. Beneath a
glass a paper moved, and words
came upon it from a hurricane of
type-bars underneath. Tta instru-
ment was printing the neWs story
as rapidly as any voice could speak
it.
Harkness read the words for an
instant, then let the paper pass on
to wind itself upon, a spool. It
had still been telling of the gigan-
tic hoax that this eccentric Ameri-
can had attempted- and Harkness
repeated the words,
"A hoax I” he exclaimed, and his
eyes, for a moment, flashed angrily
beneath the dark hair that one hand
had disarranged. “I would like to
take that facetious bird out about
a thousand miles qnd let him play
around with the serpents we met.
But, why get excited? This is all
Schwartzmann’s doing. The ten-
tacles of that man’s influence reach
out like those of an octopus.”
C HET ranged himself alongside.
Tall and slim and blond, he
contrasted strongly with this other
man, particularly -in his own quiet
self-control as against Harkness’
quick-flaring anger,
"Take it easy, Walt,” he advised.
“We’ll show them. But I judge that
you have been razzed a bit. It’s a
pretty big story for them to swal-
low without proof. Why didn’t you
show them the ship? Or why didn’t
you let Diane and me back up your
yarn? And you haven’t answered
my other questions : when do we go
back?"
Harkness took the queries in
turn.
"I didn’t show the old boat,” he
explained, “because I’m not ready
BROOD OP THE DARK MOON
for that yet. I want it kept dark-
dark as the Dark Moon. I want to
do my preliminary work there be-
fore Schwartzmann and his experts
see our ship. He would duplicate it
in a hurry and be on our trail.
“And now for our plans. Well,
out there in space the Dark Moon
is waiting. Have you realized, Chet,
that we own that world — you and
Diane and I? Small— only half the
size of our old moon — but what a
placet And it's ours I
“Back in history — you remember?
— an ambitious lad named Alexander
lighed for more worlds to conquer.
Well, we’re going Alexander one
better — we've found the world.
We're the first ever to go out into
■pace and return again.
“We'll go back there, the three
of us. We will take no others
along — not yet. We will explore and
make our plans for development;
md we will keep it to ourselves
until we are ready to hold it
against any opposition.
“And now, how soon can you
go? Your injury — how soon will
you be well enough?”
“Right now,” Chet told him la-
conically; “to-day, if you say the
word. They’ve got me welded to-
gether so I’ll hold, I reckon. But
where’s the ship? What have you
done—” He broke off abruptly to
listen—
T O all three came a muffled,
booming roar. The windows be-
tide them shivered with the thud
of the distant explosion; they had
not ceased their trembling before
Harkness had switched on the news
broadcast. And it was a minute only
until the news-gathering system
was on the air.
> “Explosion at the Institute of
Physical Science I” it stated. “This
is Vienna broadcasting. An explo-
sion has just occurred. We are giv-
ing a preliminary announcement
only. The laboratories of the Scien-
I7J
tific Institute of this city are de-
stroyed. A number of lives have
been lost. The cause has not been
determined. It is reported that the
laboratories were beginning ana-
lytical work on the so-called Hark-
ness Dark Moon gas—
“Confirmation has just been ra-
dioed to this station. Dark Moon
gas exploded on contact with air.
The American, Harkness, is either
a criminal or a madman ; he will be
apprehended at once. This confir-
mation comes from Herr Schwartx-
mann of Vienna who left the Insti-
tute only a few minutes before the
exploaioip occurred—”
And, m the quiet of a hospital
room, Walter Harkness drew a long
breath and whispered : “Schwartx-
mannl His hand is everywhere. . . .
And that sample was all I had. . . .
I must leave at once — go back to
America.”
He was halfway to the door—
he was almost carrying Diane Dela-
couer with him — when Chet’s quiet
tones brought him up short.
“I’ve never seen you afraid,”
said Chet; and his eyes were re-
garding the other man curiously;
“but you seem to have the wind up,
as the old flyers used to say, when
it comes to Schwartzmann."
H ARKNESS looked at the girl
he held so tightly, then
grinned boyishly at Chet. “I’ve
someone else to be afraid for now,”
he said.
His smile faded and was replaced
by a look of deep concern. “I
haven't told you about Schwarts-
mann,” he said; “haven't had time.
But he’s poison, Chet. And he’s
after our ship.”
“Where is the ship; where have
you hidden it? Tell me — where J”
Harkness looked about him before
he whispered sharply : * “Our old
shop— up north V*
He seemed to feel that some ex-
planation was due Chet. “In this
174
ASTOUNDING STORIES
day it seems absurd to say such
things," he added; “but this
Schwartzmann is a throw-back — a
conscienceless scoundrel. He would
put all three of us out of the way
in a minute if he could get the
ship. He knows we have been to
the Dark Moon — no question about
that — and he wants the wealth he
can imagine is there.
“We'll all plan to leave; I’ll
radio you later. Well go back to
the Dark Moon — " He broke off
abruptly as the dodr opened to ad-
mit the nurse. “You’ll hear from
me later," he repeated; and hurried
Diane Delacouer from the room.
But he returned in a moment to
stand again at the door — the nurse
was still in the room. ‘In case you
feel like going for a hop," he told
Chet casually, “Diane’s leaving her
ship here for you. You’ll find it up
above — private landing stage on the
roof.”
Chet answered promptly, “Fine;
that will go good one of these
days.” All this for the benefit of
listening ears. Yet even Chet would
have been astonished to know that
he would be using that ship within
an hour. . . .
H E was standing at the window,
and his mind was filled, not
with thoughts of any complications
that had developed for his friend
Harkness, but only of the adven-
tures that lay ahead of them both.
The Dark Moon! — they had reached
it, indeed; but they had barely
scratched the surface of that world
of mystery and adventure. He was
wild with eagerness to return — to
see again that new world, blazing
brightly beneath the sun; to see
the valley of fires — and he had a
score to settle with the tribe of
ape-men, unless Harkness had fin-
ished them off while he, himBelf, lay
unconscious. . . . Yes, there seemed
little doubt of that; Walt would
have paid the score for all of them.
. . . He seemed actually back in
that world to which his thoughts
went winging across the depths of
space. The buzz of a telephone
recalled him.
It was the hospital office, he
found, when he answered. There
was a message — would Mr. Bullard
kindly receive it on the telauto-
type — lever number four, and dial
fifteen-point-two-^— thanks. . . . And
Chet depressed a key and adjusted
the instrument that had been print-
ing the newscast.
The paper moved on beneath the
glass, and the type-bars clicked
more slowly now. From some dis-
tant station that might be anywhere
on or above the earth, there was
coming a message.
The frequency of that sending
current was changed at some central
office; it was stepped down to suit
the instrument beside him. And the
type was spelling out words that
made the watching man breathless
and intent — until he tore off the
paper and leaped for the call signal
that would summon the nurse.
Through her he would get his own
clothes, his uniform, the triple star
that showed his rating and his
authority in every air-level of the
world.
That badge would have got him
immediate attention on any landing
field. Now, on the flat roof, with
steady, gray eyes and a voice whose
very quietness accentuated its im-
perative commands, Chet had the
staff of the hospital hangars as
alert as if their [alarm had sounded
a general ambulance call.
S TRAIGHT into the sky a red
beacon made a rigid column of
light; a radio sender was crackling
a warning and a demand for “clear
air.” From the forty level, a patrol
ship that had caught the signal
came corkscrewing down the red
shaft to stand by for emergency
work. . . . Chet called her com-
BROOD OP TUB DARK MOON
ITS
Binder from the cabin of Diane's
•hip. A word of thanks — Chet’s
number — and a dismissal of the
craft. Then the white lights sig-
aaled “all clear” and the hold-down
levers let go with a soft hiss —
The feel of the controls was good
to his hands; the ship roared into
life. A beautiful little cruiser, this
■hip of Diane’s; her twin helicop-
ters lifted her gracefully into the
■ir. The column of red light had
changed to blue, the mark of an
ascending area ; Chet touched a
■witch. A muffled roar came from
the stern and the blast drove him
■traight out for a mile; then he
swung and returned. He was nosing
np as he touched the blue s tra ight
ap — and he held the vertical climb
till the altimeter before him regis-
tered sixty thousand.
Traffic is north-bound only on
the sixty level, and Chet set his
■hip on a course for the frozen
wastes of the Arctic; then he gavw
her the gun and nodded in tight-
lipped satisfaction at the mounting
thunder that answered from the
Only then did he read again the
message on a torn fragment of
telautotype paper. “Harkness,” was
the signature; and above, a brief
warning and a call — "Danger—
most leave at once. You get ship
md ftand by. I will meet you
Acre.” And, for the first time, Chet
found time to wonder at this dan-
ger that had set the hard-headed,
hard-hitting Walt Harkness into a
Butter of nerves.
W HAT danger could there be
in this well-guarded world?
A patrol-ship passed below him
as he asked himself the question.
It was symbolic of a world at
peace; a world too busy with its
own tremendous development to
find time for wars or makers of
war. What trouble could this man
Schwartzmann threaten that a word
to the Peace Enforcement Commis-
sion would not quell? Where could
he go to elude the inescapable pa-
trols?
And suddenly Chet saw the an-
swer to that questio n s a w plainly
where Schwartzmann could go.
Those vast reaches of black space!
If Schwartzmann had their ship he
could go where they had gone — go
out to the Dark Moon. . . . And
Harkness had warned Chet to get
their ship and stand by.
Had Walt learned of some plan
of Schwartzmann’s? Chet could not
answer the question, but he moved
the control rheostat over to the
last notch.
From the body of the craft came
an unending roar of a generator
where nothing moved; where only
the terrific, explosive impact of
bursting detonite drove out from
the stem to throw them forward.
“A good little ship,** Chet had said
of this cruiser of Diane's ; and he
nodded approval now of a ground-
speed detector whose quivering
needle had left the 500 mark. It
touched 600, crept on, and trembled
at 700 miles an hour with the- top
speed of the ship.
There was a position-finder in
the little control-room, and Chet’a
gaze returned to It often to see the
pinpoint of light that crept dowly
across the surface of a globe. It
marked their ever-changing loca-
tion. and it moved unerringly to-
ward a predetermined goal.
I T was a place of ice and anow
and bleak outcropping of half-
covered rocks where he descended.
Lost from the world, a place where
even the high levels seldom echoed
to the roaf of passing ships, it had
been a perfect location for theirs
“shop.” Here he and Walt had as-
sembled their mystery ship.
He had to search intently over
the icy waste to find the exact
location; a dim red glow from a
176
ASTOUNDING STORIES
hidden sun shone like pale fire
across distant black hills. But the
hills gave him a bearing, and he
landed at last beside a vaguely
outlined structure, half hidden in
drifting snow.
The dual fans dropped him soft-
ly upon the snow ground and Chet,
as he walked toward the great
locked doors, was trembling from
other causes than the cold. Would
the ship be there? He was suddenly
a-quiver with excitement at the
thought of what this/ ship meant—
the adventure, the exploration that
lay ahead.
The doors swung back. In the
warm and lighted room was a cyl-
inder of silvery whiter Its bow
ended in a gaping port where a
mighty exhaust could roar forth
to check the ship’s forward speed;
there were other ports ranged about
the gleaming body. Above the hull
a control-room projected flatly; its
lookouts shone in the brilliance of
the nitron illuminator that flooded
the room with light. . . .
Chet Bullard was breathless as
he moved on and into the room.
His wild experiences that had
seemed but a weird dream were
real again. The Dark Moon was
real I And they would be going
back to it I
T HE muffled beating of great heli-
copters was sounding in his
ears; outside, a ship was landing.
This would be Harkness coming to
join him; yet, even as the- thought
flashed through his mind, it was
countered by a quick denial. To the
experienced hearing of the Master
Pilot this sound of many fans
meant no little craft. It was a big
ship that was landing, and . it was
coming down fast. The blue-striped
monster looming large in the glow
of the midnight sun was not en-
tirely a surprise to Chet’s staring
eyes.
But — blue-striped I The markings
of the Schwartzmann line I— He
had hardly sensed the danger when
it was upon him.
A man, heavy and broad of frame,
was giving orders. Only once had
Chet seen this Herr Schwartzmann,
but there was no mistaking him
now. And he was sending a squad
of rushing figures toward the man
who struggled to close a great
door.
Chet crouched to meet the at-
tack. He was outnumbered; he
could never win out. But the knowl-
edge of his own helplessness was
nothing beside that other conviction
that flooded him with sickening cer-
tainty—
A hoax I — that was what they had
called Walt’s story; Schwartzmann
had so named it, and now Schwartz-
mann had been the one to fool
them; the message was a fake—
a bait to draw him out; and he,
Chet, had taken the bait. He had
led Schwartzmann here; had de-
livered their ship into his hands—
He landed one blow on the near-
est face; he had one glimpse of a
clubbed weapon swinging above
him— and the world went dark.
CHAPTER II
Into Space
A PULSING pain that stabbed
through his head was Chet’s
first conscious impression. Then, as
objects came slowly into focus be-
fore his eyes, he knew that above
him a ray of light was striking
slantingly through the thick glass
of a control-room lookout.
Other lookouts were black, the
dead black of empty space. Through
them, sparkling points of fire
showed here and there — suns, send?
ing their light across millions of
years to strike at last on a speed-
ing ship. But, from the one port
that caught the brighter light, came
that straight ray to illumine the
room.
BROOD OF THE DARK MOON
177
“Space,” thought Chet vaguely.
"That is the sunlight of space I”
He was trying to arrange his
thoughts in some sensible sequence.
His head I — what had happened to
bis head? . . . And then he remem-
bered. Again he saw a clubbed
weapon descending, while the face
of Schwartzmann stared at him
through bulbous eyes. . . .
And this control-room where he
lay — he knew in an instant where
he was. It was his own ship that
was roaring and trembling beneath
him — his and Walt Harkness’ — it
was flying through space! And,
with the sudden realization of what
this meant, he struggled to arise.
Only then did he see the figure at
the controls.
The man was leaning above -.an
instrument board; he straightened
to stare from a rear port while he
spoke to someone Chet could not
see.
“There’s more of ’em coming I”
he said in a choked voice. "Mein
Gotti Ne&er can we get away!”
H E fumbled with shaking hands
at instruments and controls;
and now Chet saw his chalk-white
face and read plainly the terror that
was written there. But the cords
that cut into his own wrists and
ankles reminded him that he was
bound ; he settled back upon the
floor. Why struggle? If this other
pilot was having trouble let him
get out of it by himself — let him
kill his own snakes I
That the man was having trouble
there was no doubt. He looked
once more behind him as if at
something that pursued ; then
swung the ball-control to throw
the ship off her course.
The craft answered sluggishly,
and Chet Bullard grinned where
he lay helpless upon the floor; for
be knew that his ship, should have
been thrown crashingly aside with
such a motion as that. The answer
was plain : the flask of super-de-
tonite was exhausted; here was the
last feeble explosion of the final
atoms of the terrible explosive that
was being admitted to the gen-
erator. And to cut in another flask
meant the opening of a hidden
valve.
Chet forgot the pain of his swell-
ing hands to shake with suppressed
mirth. This was going to be good!
He forgot it until, through a look-
out, he saw a writhing, circling
fire that wrapped itself about the
ship and jarred them to a halt.
The serpents ! — those horrors
from space that had come with the
coming of the Dark Moon! They
had disrupted the high-level traffic
of the world; had seized great
liners; torn their way in; stripped
them of every living thing, and let
the empty shells crash back to
earth. Chet had forgotten or he had
failed to realize the height at which
this new pilot was flying. Only
speed could save them; the mon-
sters, with their snouts that were
great suction-cupB, could wrench
off a metal door — tear out the glass
from a port!
H E saw the luminous mass
cruBh itself against a forward
lookout and felt the jar of its
body against their ship. Soft and
vaporous, these cloud-like serpents
seemed as they drifted through
space; yet the impact, when they
struck, proved that this new mat-
ter had mass.
Chet saw the figure at the con-
trols stagger back and cower in
fear; the man’s bullet-shaped head
was covered by his upraised arms:
there was some horror outside those
windows that his eyes had no wish
to see. Beside him the towering
figure of Schwartzmann appeared;
he had sprung into Chet's view, and
he screamed orders at the fear-
stricken pilot.
“Fool ! Swine I” Schwartzmann
178
ASTOUNDING STORIES
was shouting. “Do something! You
said you could fly this ship I” In
desperation he leaped forward and
reached for the controls himself.
Chet’s blurred faculties snapped
sharply to attention. That yellow
glow against the port — the jarring
of their ship— it meant instant de-
struction once that searching snout
found some place where it could
secure a hold. If the < air-pressure
within the ship were released; if
even a crack were opened I—
"Here, you!” he shouted to the
frantic Schwartzmann who was
jerking frenziedly at the-controls
that no longer gave response. "Cut
these ropes! — leave those instru-
ments alone, you fool !” He was sud-
denly vibrant with hate as he rea-
lized what this man had done: he
had struck him, Chet, down as he
would have felled an animal for
butchery; he had stolen their ship;
and now he was losing it. Chet
hardly thought of his own desperate
plight in his rage at this threat to
their ship, and at Schwartzmann’s
inability to help himself.
“Cut these ropes!" he repeated.
“Damn it all, turn me loose; I can
fly us out!” He added his frank
opinion of Schwartzmann and all
his men. And Schwartzmann,
though his dark face flushed angrily
red for one instant, leaped to Chet’s
side and slashed at the cords with
a knife.
The room swam before Chet's diz-
zy eyes as he came to his feet.
He half fell, half drew himself
full length toward the valve that
he alone knew. Then again he was
on his feet, and he gripped at the
ball-control with one hand while
he opened a master throttle that
cut in this new supply of explosive.
T HE room had been silent with
the silence of empty space,
save only for the scraping of a
horrid body across the ship’s outer
shell. The silence was shattered
now as if by the thunder of many
guns. There was no time for easing
themselves into gradual flight. Chet
thrust forward on the ball-control,
and the blast from their stem threw
the ship as if it had been fired
from a giant cannon.
The self-compensating floor
swung back and up; Chet's weight
was almost unbearable as the ship
beneath him leaped out and on, and
the terrific blast that screamed and
thundered urged this speeding shell
to greater and still greater speed.
And then, with the facility that
that speed gave, Chet's careful
hands moved a tiny metal ball with-
in its magnetic cage, and the great
ship bellowed from many ports as
it followed the motion of that ball.
Could an eye have seen the wild,
twisting flight, it must have seemed
as if pilot and ship had gone sud-
denly mad. The craft corkscrewed
and whirled; it leaped upward and
aside; and, as the glowing ma«
.was thrown dear of the lookout,
Chet’s hand moved again to that
maximum forward position, and
again the titanic blast from astern
drove them on and out.
There were other shapes ahead,
glowing lines of fire, luminous
masses like streamers of cloud that
looped themselves into contorted
forms and writhed vividly untH
they straightened into sharp lines
of speed that bore down upon the
fleeing craft and the human food
that was escaping these hungry
snouts.
Chet saw them dead ahead ; he
saw the out-thrust heads, each end-
ing in a great suction-cup, the row,
of disks that were eyes blazing
above, and the gaping maw below.
He altered their course not a hair's
breadth as he bore down upon them,
while the monsters swelled pro-
digiously before his eyes. And the
thunderous roar from astern came
with never a break, while the Bhip
itself ceased its trembling protest
BROOD OF THE DARK MOON
179
against the sudden blast and drove
smoothly on and into the waiting
beaBts.
There was a hardly perceptible
thudding jar. They were free! And
the forward lookouts showed only
the brilliant fires of distant suns
and one more glorious than the rest
that meant a planet.
C HET turned at last to face
Schwartzmann and his pilot
where they had clung helplessly to
a metal stanchion. Four or five
others crept in from the cabin aft;
their blanched faces told of the fear
that had gripped them — fear of the
serpents; fear, too, of the terrific
plunges into which the ship had
been thrown. Chet Bullard drew the
metal control-ball back into neu-
tral and permitted himself the lux-
ury of a laugh.
“You're a fine bunch of highway-
men," he told Schwartzmann;
“you’ll steal a ship you can’t fly;
then come up here above the R. A.
level and get mixed up with those
brutes. What’s the idea? Did you
think you would Just hop over to
the Dark Moon? Some little plan
like that in your mind?"
Again the dark, heavy face of
Schwartzmann flushed deeply; but
it was his own men upon whom he
turned.
“You,” he told the pilot— “you
were so clever; you would knock
this man senseless! You would in-
sist that you could fly the ship!”
The pilot’s eyes still bulged with
the fear he had just experienced.
“But, Herr Schwartzmann, it was
you who told me — ’’
1 A barrage of unintelligible words
cut his protest short. Schwartzmann
poured forth imprecations in an un-
known tongue, then turned to the
others.
“Back!” he ordered. “Bah! — such
-men! The danger it iss over — yess!
This pilot, he will take us back
safely."
He turned his attention now to
the waiting Chet. “Herr Bullard,
iss it not — yess?"
He launched into extended apolo-
gies — he had wanted a look at this
so marvelous ship — he had spied
upon it; he admitted it. But this
murderous attack was none of his
doing ; his men had got out of
hand; and then he had thought it
best to take Chet, unconscious as
he was, and return with him where
he could have care.
A ND Chet Bullard kept his eyes
steadily upon the protesting
man and said nothing, but he was
thinking of a number of things.
There was Walt’s warning, “this
Schwartzmann means mischief,” and
the faked message that had brought
him from the hospital to get the
ship from its hiding place; no, it
was too much to believe. But Chet’s
eyes were unchanging, and he nod-
ded shortly in agreement as the
other concluded.
“You will take us back?”
Schwartzmann was asking. “I will
repay you well for what inconve-
nience we have caused. The ship,
you will return it safely to the
place where it was?"
And Chet, after making and dis-
carding a score of plans, knew there
was nothing elBe he could do. He
swung the little metal ball into a
sharply-banked turn. The straight
ray of light from an impossibly
brilliant sun struck now on a for-
ward lookout; it shone across the
shoulder of a great globe to make
a white, shining crescent as of a
giant moon. It was Earth ; and Chet
brought the bow-sights to bear on
that far-off target, while again the
thunderous blast was built up to
drive them back along the trackless
path on which they had come. But
he wondered, as he pressed forward
on the control, what the real plan
of this man, Schwartzmann, might
be. . . .
180
ASTOUNDING STORIES
L ESS thaw half an hour brought
them to the Repelling Area, and
Chet felt the upward surge as he
approached it. Here, above this mag-
netic field where gravitation's pull
was nullified, had been the air-
lanes for fast liners. Empty lanes
they were now; for the R. A., as
the flying fraternity knew it — the
Heaviside Layer of an earlier day
—marked the danger line above
which the mysterious serpents lay
in wait. Only the speed of Chet's
ship saved them; mote than one
of the luminous monsters was in
sight as he plunged through the
Invisible R. A. and threw on their
bow-blast strongly to check their fall.
Then, as he set a course that
would take them to that section of
the Arctic waste where the ship
had been, he pondered once more
upon the subject of this Schwartz-
mann of the shifty eyes and the
glib tongue and of his men who
had "got out of hand” and had
captured this ship.
"Why in thunder are we back
here?” Chet asked himself in per-
plexity. "This big boy means to
keep the ship; and, whatever his
plans may have been before, he will
never stop short of the Dark Moon
now that he has seen the old boat
perform. Then why didn't he keep
on when he was started? Had the
serpents frightened him back?”
He was still mentally proposing
questions to which there seemed
no answer when he felt the pres-
sure of a metal tube against his
back. The voice of Schwartzmann
was in his ears.
"This is a detonlte pistol” — that
voice was no longer unctuous and
self-deprecating — "one move and I'll
plant a charge inside you that will
smash you to a jelly!”
T HERE were hands that gripped
Chet before he could turn; his
anna were wrenched backward; he
was helpless in the grip of
Schwartzmann’s men. The Conner
pilot sprang forward.
“Take control, Maxi” Schwartz-
mann snapped; but he followed it
with a question while the pilot was
reaching for the ball. "You can fly
it for sure, Max?”
The man called Man answered
confidently.
“/a wohl!" he said with eager
assurance. "Up top there would have
been no trouble yet for that Ver-
dammt, verloren valve. That one ex-
perimental trip is enough — I fly it I”
Those who held Chet were bind-
ing his wrists. He was thrown to
the floor while his feet were tied,
and, as a last precaution, a gag was
forced into his mouth. Schwartz-
mann left this work to his men.
He paid no attention to Chet; he
was busy at the radio.
He placed the sending-levers In
strange positions that would effect
a blending of wave lengths which
only one receiving instrument could
pick up. He spoke cryptic words
Into the microphone, then dropped
Into a language that was unfa-
miliar to Chet. Yet, even then, it
was plain that he was giving in-
structions, and he repeated familiar
words.
“Harkneas,” Chet heard him say,
and, " — Delacouer — fat — Maxn’selle
Delacouerl”
Then, leaving the radio, he said,
"Put my ship inside the hangar;”
and the pilot. Max, grounded their
own ship to allow the men to leap
out and float Into the big building
the big aircraft In which Schwartz-
mann had come.
“Now close the doors I” their
leader ordered. “Leave everything
as it wast’’ And to the pilot he
gave added instructions; “There iss
no air traffic here. You will to
forty thousand ascend, und you will'
wait over this spot.” Contemptu-
ously he kicked aside the legs of
the bound man that he might walk
back into the cabin.
BROOD OF THE DARK MOON
181
T HE take-off was not as smooth
as it would have been had
Chet’s slim hands been on the con-
trols; this burly one who handled
them now was not accustomed to
such sensitivity. But Chet felt the
ship lift and lurch, then settle down
to a swift, spiralling ascent. Now he
lay still as he tried to ponder the
situation.
“Now what dirty work are they
up to?” he asked himself. He had
seen a sullen fury on the dark face
of Herr Schwartzmann as he spoke
the names of Walt and Diane into
the radio. Chet remembered the
look now, and he struggled vainly
with the cords about his wrists.
Even a detonite pistol with its tiny
grain of explosive in the end of
each bullet would not check him —
not when Walt and Diane were en-
dangered. And the expression on
that heavy, scowling face had told
him all too clearly that some real
danger threatened.
But the cords held fast on his
swollen wrists. His head was still
throbbing; and even his side, not
entirely healed, was adding to the
torment that beat upon him — beat
and beat with his pulsing blood—
until the beating faded out into
unconsciousness. . , .
Dimly he knew they were soaring
still higher as their radio picked
up the warning of an approaching
patrol ship ; vaguely he realized
that they descended again to a level
of observation. Chet knew in some
corner of his brain that Schwartz-
mann was watching from an under
lookout with a powerful glass, and
be heard his excited command:
“Down — go slowly down I . . .
The; are landing. . . They have
entered the hangar. Now, down with
it, Maxi Down I down I"
HE plunging fall of the ship
roused Chet from hiB stupor. He
felt the jolt of die clumsy landing
despite the snow-cushioned ground;
he heard plainly the exclamations
from beyond an open port — the
startled oath in Walter Harkness’
voice, and the stinging scorn in
the words of Diane Delacouer.
Herr Schwartzmann had been in
the employ of Mademoiselle Dela-
couer, but he was taking orders no
longer. There was a sound of scuf-
fling feet, and once the thud of a
blow. . . . Then Chet watched with
heavy, hopeless eyes as the familiar
faces of Diane and Walt appeared
in the jjoorway. Their hands were
bound; they, too, were threatened
with a slim-barreled pistol in the
hands of the smirking, exultant
Schwartzmann.
A tall, thin-faced man whom Chet
had not seen before followed them
into the room. The newcomer was
motioned forward now, as Schwartz-
mann called an order to the pilot:
“All right; now we go, Max!
Herr Doktor Kreiss will give you
the bearings; he knows his way
among the stars.”
Herr Schwartzmann doubled over
in laughing appreciation of his own
success before he straightened up
and regarded his captives with cold
eyes.
“Such a pleasure!” he mocked',
“such charming passengers to take
with me on my first trip into
space; this ship, it iss not so goot.
I will build better ships later on;
I will let you see them when I shall
come to visit you.”
He laughed again at sight of the
wondering looks in the eyes of the
three; stooping, he jerked the gag
from Chet’s mouth.
“You do not understand,” he ex-
claimed, “I should haff explained.
You see, me/ne guten Freunde, we
go— achl — you have guessed it al-
ready! We go to the Dark Moon.
I am pleased to take you with me
on the trip out; but coming back?
I will have so much to bring —
there will be no room for pas-
sengers.
in
ASTOUNDING STORIES
“I could have killed you here,"
he said; and hia mockery gave place
for a moment to n savage tone, "but
the patrol ships, they are every-
where. But I have influence here
und there — I arranged that your
flask of gas should be charged with
explosive. I discredited you, and yet
I could not so great a risk take
as to kill you all.
“So came inspiration! I called
your foolish young friend here from
the hospital. I ordered him to go
at once to the ship hidden where
I could not find, and I signed the
name of Herr Harkness."
C HET caught the Silent glances
of his friends who could yet
smile hopefully through the other
emotions that possessed them. He
ground his teeth as the smooth
voice of Herr Schwartsmfinn went
on:
“He led me here; the young fool!
Then I sent for you — and this time
I signed his name — und you came.
So simple!
“Und now we go in my ship to
my new world. And," he added
savagely, “if one of you makes the
least trouble, he will land on the
Dark Moon — yess I — but he will land
hard, from ten thousand feet up I”
The great generator was roaring.
To Chet came the familiar lift of
the R. A. effect. They were beyond
the R. A.; they were heading out
and away from Earth f and his
friends were captives through his
own unconscious treachery, carried
out into space in their own ship,
with the hands of an enemy grip-
ping the controls. . .
Chet's groan, as he turned his
face away from the others who had
tried to smile cheerfully, had noth-
ing to do with the pain of his
body. It was his mind that was
torturing him.
But he muttered broken words
as he lay there, words that had
reference to one Schwartzmann. “Ill
get him, damn hfanl I’ll get him!"
he was promising himself.
And Herr Schwartzmann who
was clever, would have proved hia
cleverness still more by listening.
For a Master Pilot of the World
does not get his rating on vain
boasts. He must know first his fly-
ing, his ships and his air-rbut he
is apt to make good in other ways
as well.
CHAPTER III
Out of Control
W ALTER HARKNESS had
built this ship with Chet’s
help. They had designed it for
space-travel. It was the first ship to
leave the Earth under its own
power, reach another heavenly body,
and come back for a safe landing.
But they had not installed any
luxuries for the passengers.
In the room where the three were
confined, there were no self-compen-
sating chairs such as the high-liners
used. But the acceleration of the
speeding ship was constant, and the
rear wall became their floor where
they sat or paced back and forth.
Their bonds had been removed, and
one of Harkness' hands was grip-
ping Diane’s where they sat side
by Bide. Chet was briskly limber-
ing his cramped muscles.
He glanced at the two who sat
silent nearby, and he knew what
was in their minds — knew that
each was thinking of the other,
forgetting their own danger; and it
was these two who had saved his
life on their first adventure out in
space.
Walt — one man who was never
spoiled by his millions; and Diane
— straight and true as they make
’em I Some way, somehow, they must
be saved — thus ran his thoughts-^-
but it looked bad for them all.
Schwartzmann? — no use kidding
themselves about that lad; he was
one bad h ombre. The best they
BROOD OF THE DARK MOON
183
could hope for was to be marooned
on the Dark Moon — left there to
live or to die amid those Bavage
surroundings ; and the worst that
might happen — I But Chet refused
to think of what alternatives might
occur to the ugly, distorted mind
of the man who had them at his
mercy.
There was no echo of these
thoughts when he spoke; the smile
that flashed across his lean face
brought a brief response from the
despondent countenances of his
companions.
"Well,” Chet observed, and ran
bis hand through a tangle, of blond
hair, “I have heard that the
Schwartzmann lines give service,
and I reckon I heard right. Here
we were wanting to go back to the
Dark Moon, and," — he paused to
point toward a black portlight
where occasional lights flashed past
— "I'll say we’re going; going some-
where at least. All I hope is that
that Maxie boy doesn’t find the
Dark Moon at about ten thousand
per. He may be a great little skip-
per on a nice, slow, five-hundred-
maximum freighter, but not on this
boat. I don’t like his landings.”
D IANE DELACOUER raised
her eyes to smile approvingly
upon him. “You’re good, Chet,” she
said; “you are a dirn good sport.
They knock you down out of con-
trol, and you nose right back up
for a forty-thousand foot zoom. And
you try to carry us with you. Well,
I guess it’s time we got over our
gloom. Now what is going to hap-
pen?”
“I’ll tell you,” said Walter Hark-
ness, looking at his watch: “if that
fool pilot of Schwartzmann’s doesn’t
cut his stern thrust and build up a
bow resistance, we’ll overshoot our
mark and go tearing on a few
hundred thousand miles in space.”
'Diane was playing up to Chet’s
lead.
“Bieitl" she exclaimed. “A few
million, perhaps I Then we may see
some of those Martians we’ve been
speculating about. I hear they are
handsome, my Walter — much better
looking than you. Maybe this is all
for the best after all!”
“Say,” Harkness protested, "if
you two idiots don’t know enough
to worry as you ought, I don’t see
any reason why I should do all the
heavy worrying for the whole
crowd. I guess you’ve got the
right idea at that : take what comes
when it gets here— or when we get
there.”
Small wonder, thought Chet, that
Herr Schwartzmann stared at them
in puzzled bewilderment when he
flung open the door and took one
long stride into the room. Stocky,
heavy-muscled, he stood regarding
them, a frown of suspicion draw-
ing his face into ugly lines. Plainly
he was disturbed by this laughing
good-humor where he had expected
misery and hopelessness and tears.
He moved the muzzle of a detonite
pistol back and forth.
“'W'OU haff been drinking!” he
X stated at last. "You are in-
toxicated— all of you!” His eyes
darted searching glances about the
little room that was too bare to hide
any cause for inebriation.
It was Mam’selle Diane who an-
swered him with an emphatic shake
of her dark head; an engaging smile
tugged at the corners of her lips.
“Mais non! my dear Herr Schwartz-
mann,” she assured him; “it is joy
— just happiness at again approach-
ing our Moon — and in such good
company, too.”
"Fortunes of war, Schwartzmann,”
declared Harkness; “we know how
to accept them, and we don’t hold
it against you. We are down now,
but your turn will come.”
The man’s reply was a sputter-
ing of rage in words that neither
Chet nor Harkness could under-
!(H
ASTOUNDING STORIES
stand. The latter turned to the girl
with a question.
“Did you get it, Diane ? What
did he say?”
“I think I would not cere to
translate it literally,” said Diane
Delacouer, twisting her soft 'mouth
into an expression of distaste; “but,
speaking generally, he disagrees
with you."
Herr Schwartzmann was facing
Harkness belligerently. “You think
you know something !j What is it?”
he demanded. “You are under my
feet; I kick you as I would meinea
Hund and you can do nothing.” He
aimed a savage kick into the air
to illustrate his meaning, and Hark-
nese'- face flushed suddenly scarlet.
W HATEVER retort was on
Harkness’ tongue was left
unspoken; a sharp look from Chet,
who brought his fingers swiftly to
his lips in a gesture of silence,
checked the reply. The action was
almost uncons£ious on Chet’s part;
it was as unpremeditated as the
sudden thought that flashed abruptly
into his mind —
They were helpless; they were in
this brute’s power beyond the slight-
est doubt. Schwartzmann’s words,
“You know something. What is it?”
had fired a swift train of thought
The idea was nebulous as yet . . .
but if they could throw a scare into
this man— make him think there was
danger ahead. . . . Yes, that was it:
make Schwartzmann think they
knew of dangers that he could not
avoid. They had been there before:
make this man afraid to kill them.
The dreadful alternative that Chet
had feared to think of might be
averted. . . .
All this came in an instantaneous,
flashing correlation of his conscious
thoughts.
“I’ll tell you what we mean.” he
told Schwartzmann. He even leaned
forward to shake an impressive fin-
ger before the other’s startled face.
“I’ll tell you first of all that it
doesn’t make a damn bit of differ-
ence who is on top— or it won't in
a few hours more. Well all be
washed out together.
“I’ve landed once on the Dark
Moon; I know what will happen.
And do you know how fast we are
going? Do you know the Moon's
speed as it approaches? Had yon
thought what you will look like
when that fool pilot rams into it
head on?
“And that isn’t all!” He grinned
derisively into Schwartzmann’s
flushed face, disregarding the half-
raised pistol ; it was as if some
secret thought had filled him with
overpowering amusement. His broad
grin grew into a laugh. “That isn’t
all, big boy. What will you do if
you do land? What will you do
when you open the ports and
the — ?’’ He cut his words short, and
the smile, with all other expression,
was carefully erased from his young
face.
“No, I reckon I won’t spoil the
surprise. We got through it all
right; maybe you will, too— maybe!”
A ND again it was Diane who
played up to Chet’s lead with-
out a moment’s hesitation.
“Chet," she demanded, "aren’t you
going to warn him? You would not
allow him and his men to be — ”
She stopped in apparent horror
of the unsaid words; Chet gave her
an approving glance.
“We’ll see about that when we get
there, Diane.”
He turned abruptly back to
Schwartzmann. “I’ll forget what a
rotten winner you have been; I’ll
help you out; I’ll take the controls
if you like. Of course, your man
Max, may set us down without
damage; then again — ”
“Take them!” Schwartzmann un-
graciously made an order of his
acceptance. “Take the controls, Herr
Bullard! But if you make a single
BROOD OP THE DARK MOON
ISS
blse movel” The menacing pistol
completed the threat.
But “Herr Bullard” merely turned
to his companion with a level, un-
derstanding look. “Come on,” he
•aid ; “you can both help in working
sot our location."
He Btepped before the burly man
that Diane might precede them
through the door. And he felt the
hand of Walt Harkness on his arm
la a pressure that told what could
sot be said aloud.
T HERE were pallid-faced men
in the cabin through which
they passed; men who stared and
itared from the window-ports into
the black immensity of space. Chet,
too, stopped to look; there had
been no port-holes in that inner
room where they had been confined.
He knew what to expect; he
knew how awe-inspiring would be
the sight of strange, luminous bodies
—great islands of light — masses
of animalculae — that glowed sud-
denly, then melted again into velvet
black. A whirl of violet grew almost
golden in sudden motion ; Chet knew
it for an invisible monster of space.
Glowingly luminous as it threw it-
self upon a subtle mass of shim-
aiering light, it faded like a flicker-
ing flame and went dark as its
motion ceased.
Life I — life everywhere in this
ocean of space I And on every hand
was death. “Not surprising," Chet
realized, “that these other Earth-
men are awed and trembling I"
The sun was above them; its light
struck squarely down through the
upper ports. This was polarized
light — there was nothing outside to
reflect or refract it — and, coming as
a straight beam from above, it made
a brilliant circle upon the floor from
which it was diffused throughout
the room. It was as if the floor
Itself was the illuminating agent.
No eye could bear to look Into
tbe glare from above; nor was there
need, for the other ports drew the
eyes with their black depths of
unplumbed space.
Black I — so velvet as to seem al-
most tangible! Could one have
reached out a hand, that blackness,
it seemed, must be a curtain that
the hand could draw aside, where
unflickering points of light pricked
through the dark to give promise
of some radiant glory beyond.
T HEY had seen it before, these
three, yet Chet caught the eyes
of Harkness and Diane and knew
that his own eyes must share some-
thing of the look he saw in theirs —
something of reverent wonder and
a, strange humility before this evi-
dence of trancendent greatness.
Their own immediate problem
seemed gone. The tyranny of this
glowering human and his men —
the efforts of the whole world and
its struggling millions — how absurd-
ly unimportant it all was I How it
faded to insignificance! And yet. . . .
Chet came from the reverie that
held him. There was one man by
whom this beauty was unseen. Herr
Schwartzmann was angrily ordering'
them on, and, surprisingly, Chet
laughed aloud.
This problem, he realized, was
bis problem — his to solve with the
help of the other two. And it was
not insignificant ; he knew with some
sudden wordlesB knowledge that
there was nothing in all the great
scheme but that it had its im-
portance. This vastness that was
beyond the power of human mind
to grasp ceased to be formidable —
he was part of it. He felt buoyed
up; and he led the way confidently
toward the control-room door where
Schwartzmann stood.
The scientist, whom Schwartz- -
mann had called Herr Doktor Kreiss,
was beside the pilot. He was lean-
ing forward to search the stars in
the blackness ahead, but the pilot
turned often to stare through the
186
ASTOUNDING STORIES
rear lookouts as if drawn in fearful
fascination by what was there. Chet
took the controls at Schwartzmann’s
order; the pilot saluted with a
trembling hand and vanished into
the cabin at the rear.
“Ready for flying orders, Doctor,”
the new pilot told Herr Kreiss.
“I’ll put her where you say— within
reason."
Behind him he heardthe choked
voice of Mademoiselle /Diane: " Re-
gar dez! Ab, moo Dieu, the beauty
of it I This loveliness — it hurts!”
O NE hand was pressed to her
throat ; her face was .turned as
the pilot’s had been that she might
Btare and stare at a quite impossible
moon — a great half-disk of light in
the velvet dark.
“This loveliness — it hurts!” Chet
looked, too, and knew what Diane
was feeling. There was a catch of
emotion in his own throat— a feel-
ing that was almost fear.
A giant half -moon! — and he knew
it was the Earth. Golden Earth-
light came to them in a flooding
glory; the blazing sun struck on it
from above to bring out half the
globe in brilliant gold that melted
to softest, iridescent, rainbow tints
about its edge. Below, hung motion-
less in the night, was another
sphere. Like a reflection of Earth
in the depths of some Stygian lake,
the old moon shone,' too, in a half-
circle of light.
Small wonder that these celestial
glories brought a gasp of delight
from Diane, or drew into lines of
fear the face of that other pilot
who saw only his own world slip-
ping away. But Chet Bullard, Mas-
ter Pilot of the World, swung back
to scan a star-chart that the scien-
tist was holding, then to search out
a similar grouping in the black
depths into which they were plung-
ing, and to bring the cross-hairs of
a rigidly mounted telescope upon
that distant target
“How far?" he asked himself in
a half-spoken thought, “ — how far
have we come?”
T HERE was an instrument that
ticked off the seconds in this
seemingly timeless void. He pressed
a small lever beside it, and, beneath
a glass that magnified the readings,
there passed the time-tape. Each
hour and minute was there; each
movement of the controls was in-
dicated; each trifling variation in
the power of the generator’s blast.
Chet made some careful computa-
tions and passed the paper to Hark-
ness, who tilted the time-tape re-
corder that he might see the record.
“Check this, will you, Walt?”
Chet was asking. “It is based on tbe
time of our other trip, accelera-
tion assumed as one thousand miles
per hour per hour out of air — ”
The scientist interrupted ; he
spoke in English that was carefully
precise.
“It should lie directly ahead —
the Dark Moon. I have calculated
with exactness.”
Walter HarkneaB had snatched
up a pair of binoculars. He swung
sharply from lookout to lookout
while he searched the heavens.
“It’s damned lucky for us that
you made a slight error,” Chet was
telling the other.
“Error?” Kreiss challenged. “Im-
possible I"
“Then you and I are dead right
this minute,” Chet told him. “We
are crossing the orbit of the Dark
Moon — crossing at twenty thousand
miles per hour relative to Earth,
slightly in excess of that figure rela-
tive to the Dark Moon. If it had
been here — !’’ He had been watching
Harkness anxiously; he bit off his
words as thq binoculars were thrust
into his hand.
“There she comes," Harkness told
him quietly; “it’s up to you I”
But Chet did not need the glasses.
With his unaided eyes he could see
BROOD OF THE DARK MOON
!«/
■ feint circle of violet light. It lay
ahead and slightly above, and it
pev visibly larger as he watched.
A ring of nothingness, whose out-
line was the faintest shimmering
halo; more of the distant stars
winked out swiftly behind that
ghostly circle; it was the Dark
Noon I — and it was rushing upon
them I
/"tHET swung an instrument upon
it. He picked out a jet of violet
light that could be distinguished,
and he followed it with the cross-
hairs while he twirled a micrometer
screw; then he swiftly copied the
reading that the instrument had in-
scribed. The invisible disk with its
ghostly .edging of violet was per-
ceptibly larger as he slammed over
the control-ball to up-end them in
air.
Under the control-room's nitron
Illuminator the cheeks of Herr
Doktor Kreiss were pale and blood-
less as if his heart had ceased to
function. Harkness had moved
quietly back to the side of Diane
Delacouer and was holding her two
hands firmly in his.
The very air seemed charged with
the quick tenseness of emotions.
Schwartzmann must have sensed it
even before he saw the onrushing
death. Then he leaped to a lookout,
and, an instant later, sprang at Chet
calmly fingering the control.
“Fool I” he screamed, "you would
kill us all? Turn away from itl
Away from itl”
He threw himself in a frenzy
ipon the pilot. The detonite pistol
was still in his hand. “QuickC’ he
shouted. "Turn us I”
Harkness moved swiftly, but the
scientist, Kreiss, was nearer; it was
he who smashed the guh-hand down
with a quick blow and snatched at
the weapon.
Schwartzmann was beside himself
with rage. "You, too?” he demanded.
“Giff it me— traitor I”
B UT the tall man stood uncom-
promisingly erect. "Never,” he
said, “have I seen a ship large
enough to hold two commanding
pilots. I take your orders in all
things, Herr Schwartzmann — all but
this. If we die — we die.”
Schwartzmann sputtered ; "We
should haft turned away. Even yet
we might. It will — it will — ”
"Perhaps,” agreed Kreiss, still in
that precise, class-room voice, "per-
haps it will. But this I know: with
an acceleration of one thousand
m.p.h. per hour as this young man
with the badge of a Master Pilot
says, we cannot hope, in the time
remaining, to overcome our present
velocity; we can never check our
Bpeed and build up a relatively
opposite motion before that globe
would overwhelm us. If he has
figured correctly, this young man —
if he has found the true resultant
of our two motions of approach —
and if he has swung us that we
may drive out on a line perpendicu-
lar to the resultant — ”
"I think I have,” said Chet quiet-
ly. “If I haven’t, in just a few
minutes it won't matter to any of
us; it won’t matter at all.” He met
the gaze of Herr Doktor Kreiss
who regarded him curiously.
“If we escape," the scientist told
him, “you will understand that I
am under Herr Schwartzmann’s
command; I will be compelled to
shoot you if he so orders. But,
Herr Bullard, at this moment I
would be very proud to shake your
hand.”
And Chet, as he extended his
hand, managed a grin that was
meant also for the tense, white-faced
Harkness and Diane. “I like to see
’em dealt that way," he said,
“ — right off the top of the deck.”
But the smile was erased as he
turned back to the lookout. He had
to lean close to see all of the disk,
so swiftly was the approaching
globe bearing down.
188
ASTOUNDING STORIES
I T came now from the side; it
swelled larger and larger before
his eyes. Their own ship seemed
unmoving; only the unending thun-
der of the generator told of the
frantic efforts to escape. They
seemed hung in space; their own
terrific speed seemed gone — added
to and fused with the orbital mo-
tion of the Dark Moon to bring
swiftly, closer that messenger of
death. The circle expaiided silently;
became menacingly huge.
Chet was whispering softly to
himself: “If I’d got hold of her
an hour sooner — thirty minutes— or
even ten. . . We’re doing over
twenty thousand an hour -combined
speed, and we’ll never really hit it.
. . . We’ll never reach the ground.”
He turned this over in his mind,
and he nodded gravely in con-
firmation of his own conclusions.
It seemed somehow of tremendous
importance that he get this clearly
thought out — this experience that
was close ahead.
“Skin friction I” he added. "It
will burn us up I”
He had a sudden vision of a
flaming star blazing a hot trail
through the atmosphere of this
globe; there would be only savage
eyes to follow it — to see the line
of fire curving swiftly across the
heavens. . . . He, himself, was seeing
that blazing meteor so plainly. . . .
His eyes found the lookout: the
globe was gone. They were dose-
close) Only for the enveloping gas
that made of this a dark moon, they
would be seeing the surface, the
outlines of continents.
Chet strained his eyes— to see
nothing I It was horrible. It had
been fearful enough to watch that
expanding globe. . . He was ab-
ruptly aware that the outer rim of
the lookout was red I
For Chet Bullard, time ceased to
have meaning; what were seconds—
or centuries— as he stared at that
glowing rim? He could not have
told. The outer shell of their ship
— it was radiant — shining red-hot in
the night. And above the roar of
the generator came a nerve-ripping
shriek. A wind like a blast from
hell was battering and tearing at
their ship.
“Good-by 1” He bad tried to call;
the demoniac shrieking from witfi-
out smothered his voice. One arm
was across his eyes in an uncon-
scious motion. The air of the little
room was stifling. He forced his
arm down: he would meet death
face to face.
T HE lookout was ringed with
fire; it was white with the ter-
rible white of burning steel! — it
was golden! — then cherry red! It
was dying, as the fire dies from
glowing metal plunged in its tem-
pering bath— or thrown into the
cold reaches of space!
In Chet’s ears was the roar of a
detonite motor. He tried to realize
that the lookouts were rimmed with
black— cold, fireless black! An in-
credible black I There were stars
there like pinpoints of flame I But
conviction came only when he saw
from a lookout in another wall a
circle of violet that shrank and
dwindled as he watched. .
A hand was gripping his shoul-
der; he heard the voice of Walter
Harkness speaking, while Walt’s
hand crept over to raise the triple
star that was pinned to his blouse.
“Master Pilot of the World!"
Harkness was saying. “That doesn’t
cover enough territory, old man.
It’s another rating that you’re en-
titled to, but I’m damned if I know
what it is.”
And, for once, Chet’s ready smile
refused to form. He stared dumbly
at his friend; his eyes passed to
the white face of Mademoiselle
Diane; then back to the controls,
where his hand, without conscious
volition, was reaching to move a
metal ball.
BROOD OP THE DARK MOON
189
“Missed it I" he assured himself.
“Hit the fringe of the air— just the
very outside. If we’d been twenty
thousand feet nearer! ... He was
moving the ball : their bow was
■winging. He steadied it and set
the ship on an approximate course.
“A stem chase!" he said aloud.
“All our momentum to be overcome
—but it's easy sailing now!"
He pushed the ball forward to
the limit, and the explosion-motor
gave thunderous response.
CHAPTER IV
The Return to the Dark Moon
N O man faces death in so
shocking a form without feel-
ing the effects. Death had flicked
thwnn with a finger of flame and had
pissed them by. Chet Bullard found
his hands trembling uncontrollably
■s he fumbled for a book and
opened it. The tables of figures
printed there were blurred at first
to his eyes, but he forced himself
to forget the threat that was past,
for there was another menace to
consider now.
And uppermost in his mind, when
his thoughts came back into some
approximate order, was condemna-
tion of himself for an opportunity
that was gone.
“I could have jumped him,” he
told himself with bitter self-re-
proach; “I could have grabbed the
pistol from Kreiss — the man was
petrified.” And then Chet had to
admit a fact there was no use of
denying: “I was as paralyzed as he
was," he said, and only knew he
had spoken aloud when he saw the
puzzled look that crossed Harkness’
face.
Harkness and Diane had drawn
near. In a far corner of the little
room Schwartzmann had motioned
to Kreiss to join him; they were
as far away from the others as
could be managed. Schwartzmann,
Chet judged, needed some scientific
explanation of these disturbing
events; also he needed to take the
detonite pistol from Kreiss’ hand
and jam it into his own hand. His
eyes, at Chet’s unconscious ex-
clamation, had come with instant
suspicion toward the two men.
“Forty-seven hours, Walt,” the
pilot said, and repeated it loudly
for Schwartzmann’B benefit; “ — for-
ty-seven hours before we return to
this spot. We are driving out into
space ; we’ve crossed the orbit of
the Dark Moon, and we’re doing
twenty thousand miles an hour.
“Now we must decelerate. It will
take twenty hours to check us to
zero speed; then twenty-seven more
to shoot us back to this same point
in space, allowing, of course, for
a second deceleration. The same
figuring with only slight variation
will cover a return to the Dark
Moon. As we sweep out I can allow
for the moon-motion, and we’ll hit
it at a safe landing speed on the
return trip this time.”
C HET was paying little atten-
tion to his companion as he
spoke. His eyes, insteafd, were cov-
ertly watching the bulky figure of
Schwartzmann. As he finished, their
captor shot a volley of questions
at the scientist beside him; he was
checking up on the pilot's re-
marks.
Chet was leaning forward to stare
intently from a lookout, his head
was close to that of Harkness.
“Listen, Walt,” he whispered;
“the Moon’s out of sight; it’s easy
to lose. Maybe I can’t find it again,
inyway — it’s going to take some nice
navigating — but Til miss it by ten
thousand miles if you say. so, and
even the Herr Doktor can't check
me on it.”
Chet saw the eyes of Schwartz-
mann grow intent. He reached os-
tentatiously for another book of
tables, and he seated himself that
he might figure in comfort.
190
ASTOUNDING STORIES
“Just check me on this," he told
Harkness.
He put down meaningless figures,
while the man beside him remained
silent. Over and over he wrote them
— would Harkness never reach a de-
cision?— over and over, until —
“I don’t agree with that," Hark-
ness told him and reached for the
stylus in Chet’s hand. And, while
he appeared to make his own swift
computations, there were words in-
stead of figures that flowed from
his pen.
"Only alternative: return to
Earth," he wrote. “Then S will hold
off ; wait in upper levels. Kreiss
will give him new bearings. We’ll
ahoot out again and do it better
next time. Kreiss is nobody’s fool.
S means to maroon us on Moon-
kill us perhaps. He’ll get us there,
sure. We might as well .go now.”
C HET had seen a movement
across the room. “Let’s start
all over again," he broke in ab-
ruptly. He covered the writing with
a clean sheet of paper where he set
down more figures. He was well
under way when Schwartzmann’s
quick strides brought him towering
above them. Again the detonite pis-
tol was in evidence; its small black
muzzle moved steadily from Hark-
ness to Chet.
“For your life— such as is left of
it — you may thank Herr Doktor
Kreiss," he told Chet. “I thought
at first you would have attempted
to kill us.” His smile, as he re-
garded them, seemed to Chet to be
entirely evil. “You were near death
twice, my dear Herr Bullard; and
the danger is not entirely removed.
“ ‘Forty-seven hours’ you have
said; in forty-seven hours you will
land us on the Dark Moon. If you
do not,” — he raised the pistol sug-
gestively — “remember that the pilot,
Max, can always take us back to
Earth. You are not indispensable.”
Chet looked at the dark face and
its determined and ominous scowL
“You’re a cheerful sort of soul,
aren’t you?” he demanded. “Do you
have any faint idea of what a job
this is? Do you know we will shoot
another two hundred thousand miles
straight out before I can check this
ship? Then we come back; and
meanwhile the Dark Moon has gone
on its way. Had you thought that
there’s a lot of room to get lost
in out here?”
“Forty-seven hours I” said Schwartz-
mann. “I would advise that you do
not lose your way.”
Chet shot one quizzical glance at
Harkness.
“That,” he said, “makes it practi-
cally unanimous."
Schwartzmann, with an elaborate
show of courtesy, escorted Diane
Delacouer to a cabin where she
might rest. At a questioning look
between Diane and Harkness, their
captor reassured them.
“Mam’selle shall be entirely safe,”
he said. “She may join you here
whenever she wishes. As for you," —
he was speaking to Harkness — “I
will permit you to stay here. I
could tie you up but this iss not
necessary.”
And Harkness must have agreed
that it was indeed unnecessary, for
either KreisB or Max, or some other
of Schwartzmann's men, was at his
side continuously from that moment
on.
C HET would have liked a chance
for a quiet talk and an ex-
change of ideas. It seemed that
somewhere, somehow, he should be
able to find an answer to their
problem. He stared moodily out into
the blackness ahead, where a distant
star was seemingly their goal.
Harkness stood at his side or paced
back and forth in the little room,
until he threw himself, at last,
upon a cot.
And always the great stern-blast’
roared ; muffled by the Insulated
BROOD OP THE DARK MOON
101
walla, its unceasing thunder came
at last to be unheard. To the pilot
there was neither sound nor mo-
tion. His directional sights were
unswervingly upon that distant star
ahead. Seemingly they were sus-
pended, helpless and inert, in a
Mack void. But for the occasional
glowing masses of strange living
substance that flashed past in this
ocean of space, he must almost
have believed they were motion-
less — a dead ship in a dead, black
night.
But the luminous things flashed
and were gone— end their coming,
strangely, was from astern ; they
flicked past and vanished up ahead.
And, by this, Chet knew that their
tremendous momentum was un-
checked. Though he was using the
great stern blast to slow the ship,
it was driving stern-first into outer
space. Nor, for twenty hours, was
there a change, more than a slack-
ening of the breathless speed with
which the lights went past.
Twenty hours— and then Chet
knew that they were in all truth
hung motionless, and he prayed
that his figures that told him this
were correct. . . . More timeless
minutes, an agony of waiting — and
a dimly-glowing mass that was ahead
approached their bow, swung off
and vanished far astern. And, with
its going, Chet knew that the re-
turn trip was begun.
He gave Harknesa the celestial
bearing marks and relinquished the
helm. “Full speed ahead as you "are,”
he ordered; “then at nineteen-forty
on W.S. time, we’ll cut it and ease
on bow repulsion to the limit.”
And, despite the strangeness of
their surroundings, the ceaseless,
murmuring roar of the exhaust,
the weird world outside, where
endless space was waiting for man’s
exploration— despite the deadly men-
ace that threatened, Chet dropped
his' head upon his outflung arms
and slept.
T O his sleep-drugged brain it
was scarcely a moment until a
hand was dragging at his shoulder.
“Forty-seven hours 1” the voice of
Schwartzmann was saying.
And: “Some navigating I" Hark-
ness was exclaiming in flattering
amazement. “Wake up, Chet I Wake
up I The Dark Moon’s in sight.
You've hit it on the nose, old man:
she isn’t three points off the sights I”
The bow-blast was roaring full
on. Ahead of them Chefs sleepy
eyes found a circle of violet; and
he rubbed his eyes savagely that he
might take his bearings on Sun
and Earth.
As it had been before, the Earth
was a giant half-moon; like a
mirror-sphere it shot to them across
the vast distance the reflected glory
of the sun. But the globe ahead was
a ghostly world. Its black disk was
lost in the utter blackness of space.
It was a circle, marked only by the
absence of star-points and by the
halo of violet glow that edged It
about.
Chet cut down the repelling blast.
He let the circle enlarge, then
swung the ship end for end in mid-
space that the more powerful stem
exhaust might be ready to counter-
act the gravitational pull of the new
world.
Again those impalpable clouds
surrounded them. Here was the en-
veloping gas that made this a dark
moon — the gas. If Harknesa’ theory
was correct, that let the sun’s rays
pass unaltered; that took the light
through freely to illumine this
globe, but that barred its return
passage as reflected light.
Black — dead black was the void
into which they were plunging, un-
til the darkness gave way before a
gentle glow that enfolded their
ship. The golden light enveloped
them In growing splendor. Through
every lookout it was flooding the
cabin with brillant rays, until, from
below them, directly astern of the
192
ASTOUNDING STORIES
ship, where the thundering blast
checked their speed of descent,
emerged a world.
A ND, to Chet Bullard, softly
fingering the controls of the
first ship of space — to Chet Bul-
lard, whose uncanny skill had
brought the tiny speck that was
their ship safely back from the
dark recesses of the unknown—
there came a thrill that transcended
any joy of the first exploration.
Here was water in great seas of
unreal hue — and those seas were
his! Vast continents, ripe for ad-
venture and heavy with treasure—
and they, too, were his! His own
world — his and Diane’s and Walt’s!
Who was this man, Schwartzmann,
that dared dream of violating their
posessions?
A slender tube pressed firmly, un-
compromisingly, into his' back to
give the answer to his question.
“Almost I wish you had missed it!”
Herr Schwartzmann was saying.
"But now you will land; you will
set us down in some place that you
know. No tricks, Herr Bullard! You
are clever, but not clever enough
for that. We will land, yess, where
you know it is safe."
From the lookout, the man stared
for a moment with greedy eyes;
then brought his gaze back to the
three. His men, beside Harkness and
Diane, were alert; the scientist,
Kreiss, stood dose to Chet.
“A nice little world," Schwartz-
mann told them. “Herr Harkness,
you have filed claims on it; who
am I to dispute with the great
Herr Harkness? Without question
it iss yours!”
He laughed loudly, while his eyes
narrowed between creasing wrinkles
of flesh. “You shall enjoy it," he
told them; “—all your life.”
And Chet, as he caught the gaze
of Harkness and Diane, wondered
how long this enjoyment would last.
“All your life I" But this was
rather indefinite as a measure of
time.
CHAPTER V
A Desperate Act
T HE ship that Chet Bullard and
Harkness had designed had
none of the instruments for space
navigation that the ensuing yean
were to bring. Chet's accuracy was
more the result of that flyer’s sixth
sense — that same uncanny power
that had served aviators so well in
an earlier day. But Chet was glad
to see his instruments registering
once more as he approached a new
world.
Even the sonoflector was record-
ing; its invisible rays were darting
downward to be reflected back again
from the surface below. That ab-
solute altitude recording was a joy
to read; it meant a definite rela-
tionship with the world.
“I’ll hold her at fifty thousand,”
he told Harkness. “Watch for some
outline that you can remember from
last time.”
There was an irregular area of
continental size ; only when they had
crossed it did Harkness point to-
ward an outflung projection of land.
“That peninsula,’’ he exclaimed;
“we saw that before! Swing south
and inland. . . . Now down forty,
and east of south. . . . This ought
to be the spot."
Perhaps Harkness, too, had the
flyer’s indefinable power of orien-
tation. He guided Chet in the down-
ward flight, and his pointing finger
aimed at last at a cluster of shad-
ows where a setting sun brought
mountain ranges into strong relief.
Chet held the ship steady, hung
high in the air, while the quick-
spreading mantle of night swept
across the world below. And, at
last, when the little world was
deep-buried in shadow, they saw
the red glow of fires from a hidden
valley in the south.
BROOD OF THE DARK MOON
193
“Fire Valley!” said Chet. “Don’t
say anything about me being a
navigator. Walt, you've brought us
home, sure enough.”
“Home I” He could not overcome
this strange excitement of a home-
coming to their own world. Even
the man who stood, pistol in hand,
behind him was, for the moment,
forgotten.
Valley of a thousand fires! — scene
of hiB former adventures! Each
fumerole was adding its smoky red
to the fiery glow that illumined
the place. There were ragged moun-
tains hemming it in ; Chet's gaze
passed on to the valley’s end.
Down there, where the fireB
ceased, there would be water; he
would land there I And the ship
from Earth slipped down in a long
slanting line to cushion against its
under exhausts, whose soft thunder
echoed back from a bare expanse
of frozen lava. Then its roaring
faded. The silvery shape sank softly
to its rocky bed as Chet cut the
motor that had sung its song of
power since the moment when
Schwartzmann had carried him off
—taken him from that frozen, for-
gotten corner of an incredibly dis-
tant Earth.
“TSS there air?” Schwartzmann de-
X manded. Chet came to him-
self again with a start: he saw
the man peering from the lookout
to right and to left as if he would
see all that there was in the last
light of day.
“Strange!” he was grumbling to
himself. “A strange place! But
those hills — I saw their markings—
there will be metals there. I will
explore; later I retu?h: I will mine
them. Many ships I must build to
establish a line. The first transpor-
tation line of space. Me, Jacob
Schwartzmann — I will do it. I will
haff more than anyone else on
Earth; I will make them all come
tb me crawling on their bellies I"
Chet saw the hard shine of the
narrowed eyes. For an instant only,
he dared to consider the chance of
leaping upon the big. gloating
figure. One blow and a quick snatch
for the pistol! . Then he knew
the folly of such a plan: Schwartz-
mann’s men were armed; he would
be downed in another second, his
body a shattered, jellied mass.
Schwartzmann's thoughts had
come back to the matter of air; he
motioned Chet and Harkness toward
the port.
Diane Delacouer had joined them
and she thrust herself quickly be-
tween the two men. And, though
Schwartzmann made a movement as
if he would snatch her back, he
thought better of it and motioned
for the portal to be swung. Chet
felt him close behind as he followed
the others out into the gathering
dark.
T HE air was heavy with the
fragrance of night-blooming
trees. They were close to the edge
of the lava flow. The rock was black
in the light of a starry sky; it
dropped away abruptly to a lower
glade. A stream made silvery
sparklings in the night, while be-
yond it were waving shadows of
strange trees whose trunks were
ghostly white.
It was all so familiar. . . .
Chet smiled understandingly as he
saw Walt Harkness’ arm go about
the trim figure of Diane Delacouer.
No mannish attire could disguise
Diane’s charms; nor could nerve
and cold courage that any man
might envy detract from her fem-
ininity. Her dark, curling hair was
blowing back from her upraised
face as the scented breezes -played
about her; and the soft beauty of
that face was enhanced by the very
starlight that revealed it.
It was here that Walt and Diane
had learned to love; what wonder
that the fragrant night brought only
194
ASTOUNDING STORIES
remembrance, and forgetfulnesa of
their present plight. But Chet Bul-
lard, while he saw them and smiled
in sympathy, knew suddenly that
other eyes were watching, too; he
felt the bulky figure of Herr
Schwartzmann beside him grow
tense and rigid.
But Schwartzmann’s voice, when he
spoke, was controlled. “All right,"
he called toward the ship; “all iss
safe.”
Yet Chet wondered/ at that sud-
den tensing, and an uneasy pre-
sentiment found entrance to his
thoughts. He must keep an eye on
Schwartzmann, even more than he
had supposed.
Their captor had threatened to
maroon them on the Dark Moon.
Chet did not question his intent.
Schwartzmann would have nothing
to gain by killing them now. It
would be better to leave them here,
for he might find them useful later
on. But did he plan to leave them
all or only two? Behind the steady,
expressionless eyes of the Master
Pilot, strange thoughts were pass-
ing. . . .
T HERE were orders, at length,
to return to the ship. “It is
dark already,” Schwartzmann con-
cluded ; “nothing can be accom-
plished at night.
“How long are the days and
nights?” he asked Har knees.
“Six hours,” Harkness told him;
“our little world spins fast.”
“Then for six hours we sleep,”
was the order. And again Herr
Schwartzmann conducted Mademoi-
selle Delacouer to her cabin, while
Chet Bullard watched until he saw
the man depart and heard the click
of the lock on the door of Diane’s
room.
Then for six hours he listened
to the sounds of sleeping men who
were sprawled about him on the
floor; for six hours he saw the one
man who sat on p uard beside a light
that made any thought of attack
absurd. And he cursed himself for
a fool, as he lay wakeful and vainly
planning — a poor, futile fool who
was unable to cope with this man
who had bested him.
Nineteen seventy-three I — and here
were Harkness and Diane and him-
self, captured by a man who wa
mentally and morally a misfit in a
modern world. A throw-back — that
was Schwartzmann: Harkness had
said it. He belonged back in nine-
teen fourteen.
Harkness was beyond the watch-
ing guard; from where he lay came
sounds of restless movement. Chet
knew that he was not alone in this
mood of hopeless ’dejection. There
was no opportunity for talk; only
with the coming of day did the two
find a chance to exchange a few
quick words.
T HE guard roused the others at
the first sight of sunlight be-
yond the ports. Harkness sauntered
slowly to where Chet was staring
from a lookout. He, too, leaned to
see the world outside, and he spoke
cautiously in a half -whisper :
“Not a chance, Chet. No use try-
ing to bluff this big crook any
more. He’s here, and he’s safe;
and he knows it as well as we do.
We'll let him ditch us — you and
Diane and me. Then, when we're on
our own, we’ll watch our chance. He
will go crazy with what he finds—
may get careless — then we’ll seize
the ship—’’ His words ended ri>-
ruptly. As Schwartzmann came be-
hind them, he was casually calling
Chet’s attention to a fumerole from
which a jet of vapor had appeared.
Yellowish, it was; and the wind waq
blowing it.
Chet turned away; he hardly saw
Schwartzmann or heard Harkness’
words. He was thinking of what
Walt had said. Yes, it was all they
could do; there was no chance of a
fight with them now. But later I
BROOD OF THE DARK MOON
195
Diane Delacouer came into the
control-room at the instant ; her
dark eyes were still lovely with
sleep, but they brightened to flash
an encouraging smile toward the
two men. There were five of
Schwartzmann’s men in the ship
besides the pilot and the scientist,
Kreiss. They all crowded in after
Diane.
They must have had their orders
in advance; Schwartzmann merely
Inodded, and they sprang upon
Harkness and Chet. The two were
caught oif their guard; their arms
were twisted behind them before
resistance could be thought of.
Diane gave a cry, started forward,
and was brushed back by a sweep
of Schwartzmann’s arm. The man
himself stood staring at them, un-
moving, Wordless. Only the flesh
about his eyes gathered -into creases
to squeeze the eyes to malignant
slits. There was no mistaking the
menace in that look.
“T THINK we do not need you
X any more," he said at last. "I
think, Herr Harkness, this is the
end of our little argument — and,
Herr Harkness, you lose. Now, I
will tell you how it iss that you
pay.
"You haff thought, perhaps, I
would kill you. But you were
wrong, as you many times have
been. You haff not appreciated my
kindness; you haff not understood
that mine iss a heart of gold.
"Even I was not sure before we
came what it iss best to do. But
now I know. I saw oceans and
many lands on this world. I saw
islands in those oceans.
"You so clever are — such a great
thinker iss Herr Harkness — and on
one of those islands you will haff
plenty of time to think — yessl You
can think of your goot friend,
Schwartzmann, and of his kind-
ness to you.”
"You are going to maroon us
on an island?” asked Walt Hark-
ness hoarsely. Plainly his plans for
seizing the ship were going awry.
“You are going to put the three of
us off in some lost corner of this
world?”
Chet Bullard was silent until he
saw the figure of Harkness strug-
gling to throw off his two guards.
“Walt,” he called loudly, “take - it
easy! For God’s sake, Walt, keep
your head!”
This, Chet sensed, was no time
for resistance. Let Schwartzmann
go ahead with his plans; let him
think them complacent and unre-
sisting; let Max pilot the ship;
then watch for an opening when
they could land a blow that would
count! He heard Schwartzmann
laughing now, laughing as if he
were enjoying something more
pleasing than the struggles of Walt.
C HET was standing by the con-
trols. The metal instrument-
table was beside him; above it was
the control itself, a metal ball that
hung suspended in air within a
cage of curved bars.
It was pure magic, this ball-
control, where magnetic fields
crossed and recrossed; it waB as if
the one who held it were a genie
who could throw the ship itself
where he willed. Glass almost en-
closed the cage of bars, and the
whole instrument swung with the
self-compensating platform that ad-
justed itself to the “gravitation”
of accelerated speed. The pilot.
Max, had moved across to the in-
strument-table, ready for the take-
off.
Schwartzmann’s laughter died to
a gurgling chuckle. He wiped his
eyes before he replied to Hark-
ness’ question.
“Leave you,” he said, “in one
place? Nein! One here, the other
there. A thousand miles apart, it
might be. And not all three of you.
That would be so unkind — ”
106
ASTOUNDING STORIES
He interrupted himself to call to
Kreiss who was opening the port.
“No,” he ordered; “keep it closed.
We are not going outside; we are
going up.”
But Kreiss had the port open. “I
want a man to get some fresh
water," he said ; “he will only' be a
minute.”
He shoved at a waiting man to
hurry him through the doorway. It
was only a gentle push; Chet won*
dered as he saw the man stagger
and gra6p at his throat. He was
coughing— choking horribly for an
instant outside the open port — then
fell to the ground, while his legs
jerked awkwardly, -spasmodically.
Chet saw Kreiss) follow. The
scientist would have leaped to the
side of the stricken man, whose body
was so still now on the sunlit rock;
but he, too, crumpled, then stag-
gered back into the room. He pushed
feebly at the port and* swung it
shut. His face, as he turned, was
drawn into fearful lines.
“Acid!” He choked out the- words
between strangled breaths. “Acid-
sulfuric — fumes 1 H
C HET turned quickly to the
spectro-analyzer ; the lines of
oxygen and nitrogen were merged
with others, and that meant an at-
mosphere unfit for human lungs I
There had been a fumerole where
yellowish vapor was spouting: he
remembered it now.
“Sot” boomed Schwartzmann, and
now his squinting eyes were full
on Chet. “You — you scbwelnt You
said when we opened the ports
there would be a surprise 1 Und this
iss it I You thought to see us kill
ourselves t
“Open that port!” he shouted.
The men who held Chet released
him and sprang forward to obey.
The pilot, Max, took their place.
.He put one hand on Chet's shoulder,
while his other hand brought up a
threatening, metal bar.
Schwartzmann’s heavy face had
lost its stolid look; it was alive
with rage. He thrust his head for-
ward to glare at the men, while he
stood firmly, his feet far apart, two
heavy fists on his hips. He whirled
abruptly and caught Diane by one
arm. He pulled her roughly to him
and encircled the girl’s trim figure
with one huge arm.
“Put you all on one island?" he
shouted. “Did you think I would
put you all out of the ship? You"—
he pointed at Harkneas — "and you"
—this time it was Chet — “go out
now. You can die in your damned
gas that you expected would kill
me I But, you fools, you imbeciles—
Mam’selle, she stays with me I” The
struggling girl was helpless in the
great arm that drew her close.
Harkness’ mad rage gave place
to a dead stillness. From bloodless
lips in a chalk-white face he spat
out one sentence:
“Take your filthy hands off her—
now — or I’ll — ”
Schwartzmann’s one free band
still held the pistol. He raised it
with deadly deliberation; it came
level with .Harkness’ unflinching
eyes.
“Yes?” said Schwartzmann. ‘You
will do— what?”
C HET saw the deadly tableau.
He knew with a conviction that
gripped bis heart that here was
the end. Walt would die and he
would be next. Diane would be left
defenseless. . . . The flashing
thought that followed came to him
as sharply as the crack of any
pistol. It seemed to burst inside his
brain, to lift him with some dynamic
power of its own and project him
Into action.
He threw himself sideways from
under the pilot’s band, out from
beneath the heavy metal bar — and
he whirled, as he leaped, to face
the man. One lean, brown hand
clenched to a fist that started a
BROOD OF THE DARK MOON
197
long swing from somewhere near
his knees; it shot upward to crash
beneath the pilot’s outthrust jaw
and lift him from the floor. Max
had aimed the bar in a downward
■weep where Chet’s head had been
the moment before; and now man
and bar went down together. In the
aame instant . Chet threw himself
upon the weapon and leaped back-,
ward to his feet.
One frozen second, while, to Chet,
the figures seemed as motionless as
if carved from stone — two men be-
tide the half-opened port — Hark-
ness in convulsive writhing be-
tween two others — the figure of
Diane, strained, tense and helpless
in Schwartzmann’s grasp — and
Schwartzmann, whose aim had been
disturbed, steadying the pistol de-
liberately upon Harkness —
“Wait I” Chet’s voice tore through
the confusion. He knew he must
(rip Schwartzmann’s attention —
hold that trigger finger that was
tensed to send a detonite bullet on
its way. “Wait, damn you! I’ll an-
swer your question. I’ll tell you
what we’ll do!"
In that second he had swung
the metal bar high ; now he brought
it crashing down, in front of him.
Schwartzmann flinched, half turned
ss if to fire at Chet, and saw the
blow was not for him.
W ITH a splintering crash, the
bar went through an obstruc-
tion. There was sound of glass that
slivered to a million mangled bits —
the sharp tang of metal broken off
—a crash and clatter — then silence,
save for one bit of glass that fell
belatedly to the floor, its tiny jing-
ling crash ringing loud in the
dhathly stillness of the room. . . .
It had been the control-room,
this place of metal walls and of
shining, polished instruments, and it
could be called that no longer. For,
battered to useless wreckage, there
lay on a metal table a cage that
had once been formed of curving
bars. Among the fragments a metal
ball that had guided the great ship
still rocked idly from its fall, until
it, too, was still.
It was a room where nothing
moved — where no person so much as
breathed. ... '
Then came the Master Pilot's
voice, and it was speaking with
quiet finality.
“And that,” he said, “is your an-
swer. Our ship has made its last
flight.”
His eyes held steadily upon the
blanched face of Herr Schwartz-
mann, whose limp arms released the
body of Diane; the pistol hung
weakly at the man’s side. And the
pilot’s voice went on, so quiet, so
hushed — so curiously toneless in
that silent room.
“What was it that you said?—
that Harkness and I would be stay-
ing here? Well, you were right
when you said that, Schwartzmann;
but it’s a hard sentence, that — im-
prisonment for life.”
Chet paused now, to smile de^
liberately, grimly at the dark face
so bleached and bloodless, before
he repeated:
“Imprisonment for life I — and you
didn’t know that you were sentenc-
ing yourself. For you’re staying
too, Schwartzmann, you contemp-
tible, thieving dog I You’re staying
with us — here— on the Dark Moon I”
(To be continued.)
Crack I A gala MIcVTs fist caagkl Um.
of the Sun. That
legendary sun
was but a dim
racial memory.
Toni of millenniums after the Death
of the Sun there comas a young man
who dares to open the Frosen Gate
of Subteiranea.
B Y our system of time we
would have called it around
65,000 A. D., but in this cav-
ern world, miles below the
long-forgotten Surface of the earth,
it was 49,889
but the 24-hour day, based on its il-
lusory travel across the sky, was
still maintained by uranium clocks,
by which the myriads who dwelt in
the galleries and maze of the under-
world warrens
regulated their
lives.
In the office of
the nation’s cen-
tral electro-plant
By R. F. Starzl
198
IF THE SUN DIED
199
■at a young man. He was unoccupied
at the moment. He was an example
of the marvelously Blow process of
evolution, for to all outward appear-
ances he differed little from a Twen-
tieth Century man. Keen intelli-
gence sat on his fine-cut, kindly
young face. In general build he was
lighter, more refined than a man of
the past. Yet even the long, deli-
cately colored robe of mineral silk
which he wore could not detract from
his obvious virility and strength.
His face flashed in a smile when a
girl suddenly appeared in the mid-
dle of the room, materializing, so it
seemed, out of nowhere. She re-
sembled him to some extent, except
that she was exquisitely feminine,
dark-haired, with a skin of warm
ivory, while he was blond and ruddy.
Her tinkling, srlyery voice was trou-
bled as she asked:
"Have I your leave to stay, Mich’l
Ares?”
The look of adoration he gave her
was answer enough, but he answered
with the conventional formula, "It
is given.” He rose to his feet,
walked right through the seemingly
■olid vision and made an adjustment
on a bank of dials. Then he walked
through the apparition again and,
standing beside hid chair, looked at
her inquiringly.
“You haven’t forgotten, Mich’l,
this is the day of the Referendum?’’
Mich’l smiled slightly. It would
be a day of confusion in Subter-
ranea if he should forget. As chief
of the technics he was in direct
charge of the tabulating machines
that would, a few seconds after the
vote, give the result in the matter of
the opening of the Frozen Gate. But
the girl’s concern sobered him in-
stantly. On the decision of the peo-
ple at noon depended the life work
bf her father. Senator Mane. And
it was now nine o’clock.
“lam Bure they will order the Gate
opened,” he said instantly. “All the
techoi’es are agreed that your father
is right, that the Great Cold', was
only another, more severe ice age —
not the death of the Sun. The tech-
nics — ”
J UST as the girl had seemingly
materialized, a young man now
stood beside her. In appearance he
was a picture of pride, power, arro-
gance, and definite danger. His
hawklike, patrician features were
smiling. This olive-skinned, dark
young rival of Mich’l was Lane Mot-
ion, son of Senator Mollon, ruthless
administration leader and bitter op-
ponent of Senator Mane’s Exodus
faction.
Lqpe looked at Mich’l insolently.
"Have I your leave to stay, Mich’l
Ares?” he asked.
"It is given,” said MichT without
enthusiasm.
"I’m not calling on you of my own
will, Mich’l,’’ the apparition of
young Mollon said contemptuously,
"but Nida had the telucid turned on
as I stepped into the room.”
"It’s as well for you that you’re
not here personally,” MichT replied
promptly. "The last time we met I
believe I was obliged to knock you
down.”
Lane Mollon flushed, with a side-
long glance at Nida. The girl gave
MichT a frightened look.
Lane interpreted her concern
rightly.
“Ordinarily it’s not safe to try
anything like that with me. I could
have you executed in half an hour.
But I don’t have to call on the State
to punish you. Nida, you’ll admit
I'm taking no unfair advantage of
him?”
"Oh, I do, Lane, but — ”
Lane reached out his hand to the
dial, invisible to MichT, which oper-
ated the telucid apparatus, and im-
mediately the apparitions vanished.
MichT looked at his own telucid, its
great unwinking eye set in the wall.
But he did not project His own illu-
sory body to the girl’s home. He
200
ASTOUNDING STORIES
was a technle— one of the pitifully possessed this repulsive power to a
few trained men and women who decree strong enough to support's
kept the intricate automatic machin- vjfinsiderable weight,
ery working. On them rested the Under MichTs guidance the car
immense, stupid civilization of the voved forward silently, through in-
caverns, and there was work to do.
Hich’l felt that on this morning of
her father’s greatest trial Nida
would pay scant attention to Lane.
M ICH’L was testing some of the
controls when Gobet Hanlon
came in. Gobet was also a technic,
and MichTs special) friend. Like
Mich’l, he wore the light robe that
was universal among the civilians in
the equable climate of the caverns.
He walked with the light, springy
step that was somehow^characteris-
tic of the specialized class to which
he belonged, as distinguished from
the languid gait of the pampered,
lazy populace. Attached to his
girdle .of flat chain links was a tiny
computing machine about as large as
the palm of a man’s hand. For Gobet
did most of the mathematical work.
“You’ll want me at the tabulating
section?" Gobet stated inquiringly.
“It may be well,’’ Mich’l smiled.
“For the first time in centuries, I
believe, the general public is going
to vote.” *
“Flos Entine wants to come
along.”
MichTs smile changed to a grin.
He knew the pretty, willful litde
sweetheart of Go bet’s. If she wanted
to be at the tabulating plant she
would be there.
“In fact,” Gobet confessed some-
what sheepishly, “she is in the car.”
The car was waiting in the gal-
lery. It had no visible support, but
hovered a few inches above the floor
above one of two parallel aluminum
alloy strips that stretched, like the
trolley tracks of the ancients,
throughout all the galleries. The an-
cients well knew that aluminum is
repelled by magnetism, but the race
had lived in the caverns for cen-
turies before evolving an alloy that
terminable busy streets with arched
roofs, lined on either side with
doors that led to homes, theaters and
food distributing automats. Occa-
sionally they passed public gardens,
purely ornamental, in which a few
specimens of vegetation were pre-
served. They passed multitudes of
people, most of them handsome with
a pampered, hot-house pretdneas,
but betraying the peculiar lassitude
which had been sapping the energies
of this once dynamic race for mil-
lenia. Yet to-day they showed al-
most eagerness. The name of Leo
Mane, prophet of deliverance, was
on every tongue. And what was the
Sun like? Like the great vita-lights
that were prescribed by law and
evaded by everyone, except possibly
the technics? Those techniea — they
seemed to delight in work) Curious
glances fell on the gliding car. Some
work in connection with the Refer-
endum? What must one do to vote?
Oh, the telucid I
A RRIVING at Administration
Circle, the car entered a vast
excavation half a mile in diameter,
possibly a thousand feet high at the
dome. Here were the entrances to
some of the principal Government
warrens. Here also centered the
streets, like radiating spokes of a
wheel, on which many of the offi-
cials lived. Here the emanation
bulbs were more frequent than in
the galleries, so that the light was
almost glaring. Guards of soldier-
police, the stolid, well-fed, special-
ized class produced by centuries of a
static civilization, were everywhere.
Not in the memory of their grand-
parents had they done any fighting,
but in their short, brightly colored
tunics, flaring trousers and little
kepis they looked very smart. Their
IF THE SUN DIED
Ml
only weapon was a small tube capa-
ble of projecting a lethal light-ray.
Uich’l led his party to the audi-
ence hall- It was only a few hun-
dred feet in diameter. At one end
was the speaker's rostrum. Senator
Mane was already there. He was
tall, purposeful, but withal tired and
wistful looking. His graying hair
was cut at the nape of his neck,
sweeping back from his swelling
tuples in a manner really sugges-
tire of a pane. His large, luminous
eyes lit up.
“Is it nearly time?"
“Yes, Senator,” Mich’l said. “The
aation will soon assemble.”
“You have met Senator Motion ?”
“I have had the pleasure.” Michl
acknowledged with polite irony,
“since Senator Mollon gives me
practically all my orders.”
Mollon acknowledged the tribute
with a quick smile, without rising
from his chair. He, too, was differ-
ent from the average Subterranean
In that he was forceful and aggres-
sive, like Senator Mane. He was
still youngish looking, of powerful,
hlocky build. His dark hair was
carefully parted in the middle and
brushed down sleekly. The Twen-
tieth Century had known his proto-
type, the successful, powerful, ut-
terly’ unscrupulous politician; ■ and
.fra different sphere, that type of ex-
tra-Governmental ruler which the
ancients called “gangster.” It was
casually discussed in Subterranea
that certain of the state soldier-po-
lice were responsible for the mys-
terious assassinations that had so
conveniently removed most of the
effective resistance to Motion’s
progress in the Senate. The once
potent body had not held a session
in ten years: didn’t dare to, a cyni-
cal and indifferent public said. And
a strange reluctance on the part of
qualified men to accept the Presi-
dential nomination had left that of-
fice unfilled for the past three years.
Motion, as party dictator, performed
the duties of President provision-
ally.
F LOS, mischievous as usual,
rounded her great blue eyes and
gazed at Mollon with an expression
of rapt admiration. '
“Oh, Senator,” she thrilled. “I
think it’s wonderful of you to give
Senator Mane an opportunity to de-
bate with you. You are so kind I”
Mollon failed to detect any mock-
ery, luckily for Flos. He looked at
her with half-closed eyes.
“The public must be satisfied,” he
rumbled. “Senator Mane has aroused
in them great hopes. A small mat-
ter might be adjusted, but only a
Referendum will satisfy them in
this.”
“But Senator, the race is going to
ruin. If we could get into the Sun
again — wouldn't you want that?”
“I don’t believe there is a ‘Sun’,”
Mollon replied; then, with the can-
dor of one who is perfectly sure of
himself, added :
“If Mane were right, I still
couldn’t permit the Frozen Gate to
be opened. I can control the people
for their own good, here; it might
not be possible Outside.”
A deep musical note sounded.
Suddenly the myriad inhabitants of
Subterranea seemed to be milling
around in the room. Actually their
bodies were in their dwelling cells,
but their telucid images filled the
hall. By a Bimple adjustment of the
power circuit, their images, instead
of being life size, were made only
about an inch high, permitting the
accommodation of the entire nation
in the hall. Their millions of tiny
voices, mingling, made a sighing
sound.
M ANE rose and stepped forward,
raising his hand.
“Citizens of Subterranea,” he be-
gan in powerful, resonant tones, and
then went on to put into his address
all the fervor of a lifetime of ea-
202
ASTOUNDING STORIES
deavor. He told them of those times
in the dim past when the human race
still dwelt on the surface of the
earth. Of the Sun that poured out
inexhaustible floods of life and light ;
of the green things that were grown,
not only to look at, but for food for
all living things before food was
made synthetically out of mined
chemicals. Of the world overrun by
a teeming, happy, dynamic civiliza-
tion.
"Then somethingvhappened. The
Sun seemed to give) less light, less
heat. Perhaps we ran into a cloud
of cosmic dust that intercepted the
Sun’s rays. Perhaps the cause was
to be found in some change in the
Sun’s internal structure. But the
effects could not be doubled. Ice be-
gan to come down from the poles.
Ice barriers higher than the highest
towers covered the world, wiping
out all life but the most energetic.
"Our ancestors, and many other
advanced nations, began to burrow
toward the hot interior of the earth.
We to-day have no idea of the labor
that went into the digging of our
underground home. We are becom-
ing degenerate. More and more of
us, even those who still use the vita-
lights, are becoming pale and flabby.
There are hardly enough technies to
keep the automatic machinery in
order. What will happen when those
technies also deteriorate, and lose
the will to work? For deteriorate
they must, just as Senator Motion
and his still active allies will. Just
as I will, if I live long enough. There
is a great force that we never know
here. It is call the cosmic ray. It
never penetrates to our depth. And
our vita-lights do not produce it.”
He then spoke of the proposed
Exodus, argued, pleaded, painted a
rosy picture of the outer world, of
a Sun come back, a world of bright-
ness and life. At the conclusion
of his speech a sigh arose from the
assembled millions — a sigh of hope,
of half belief. Had the vote been
taken then the Frozen Gate would
have been opened.
B UT Senator Mollon was on the
rostrum, holding up a square,
well manicured hand for attention.
In his deep rumbling bass he tore
the arguments for the Exodus to
shreds. With the whip of fear he
drove away hope.
“If our savage ancestors lived on
the inhospitable outer shell of the
earth,” he shouted, “is that a reason
for our taking that retrograde step?
Read your histories. What hap-
paned to our neighboring nation of
Atlantica only a short 15,000 years
ago? They did just as this man is
urging— opened their outer gate. It
promptly froze open, and liquid air,
the remnant of what in primordial
days was an outer atmosphere,
poured down the tunnels. The whole
nation died, and we saved ourselves
only by blasting the connecting pas-
sages between them and us with ful-
minite.”
A wave of fear passed over the
tiny massed figures. For centuries
the race had been rapidly losing all
initiative, except for those few
leaders who, through superior stam-
ina and religious devotion to the
artificial sun-rays, had maintained
something of their pristine energy.
Now they were hysterical with fear
of the unknown. Even as Michl
Ares adjusted the parabolic antenna
of the thought-receptor vote-count-
ing machine, he knew what the ver-
dict would be. In a moment the vote
was flashed on a screen on the ceil-
ing : 421 in favor of the Exodus and
2,733,485 against it. There was an
eery cheer from the people, and they
began to dissolve like smoke. Mol-
lon rose, bowed politely and smil-
ingly, and walked out to where liia
magnetic car awaited him.
I T was with a feeling of deep de-
pression that Mich’l Ares went
to work the next morning. His
IP THE SUN DIED
203
despair was shared by the technies
under him with whom he talked. At
the telestereo station he found a
bitter young man broadcasting a pre-
pared commentary on the^election
ordered by Senator Motion. It was
congratulatory in nature, designed
to confirm popular opinion that the
nation had been saved from a great
catastrophe and to glorify the prin-
ciples of Motion’s party.
“. . . And so once more this great
nation has demonstrated its ability
to govern itself, to protect itself
against dangerous and unsocial ex-
periments. The voice of the people
is the voice of God. The Govern-
ment claims for itself no credit for
this momentous decision. Each cit-
izen has done his share toward the
continuation of our safety, our pros-
perity. . . .”
The young man finished the docu-
ment, smiled a charming smile, and
turned off the switch. Then he grim-
aced his disgust and lapsed into a
glum meditation.
“What say, Kratz?” Mich’l asked.
“Trouble again on the west sec-
tor. Had trouble getting power
enough. Generators ought to be
overhauled.” He made a helpless
gesture.
"How about conscripting a little
labor?”
“Tried it this morning. Most of
the people are still in a daze from
chewing too much merdite. Those
that're sober are too busy preening
themselves for voting on the win-
ning side.”
Kratz informed Mich’l that Motion
had that morning given up all pre-
tense of constitutional government,
had preempted the treasury, and was
consolidating his position as avowed
dictator.
“He probably wanted to do that a
long time,” Mich’l commented. "He
didn't quite dare till that Referen-
dum yesterday gave him the real
measure of the public. Well, Fvo
got to be going.”
M ICH’L took one of the small
mechanical service tunnels
back to his office. This latest news
had hardly affected him, so keen was
his disappointment over the defeat
of the Exodus. But he wanted to be
alone. He walked through vast halls
full of machinery, abandoned and
rusting, through dark corridors that
had' once roared with industrial life.
What would happen when the pres-
ent overloaded machinery should
break down; wear out? The remnants
of the great technical army -could
hardly serve what was left. Each
passing year these silent, useless
hulks became more numerous. The
specter of famine was stalking amid
the dusty pipes and empty vats of
the chemical plants; the horrors of
darkness lurked amid the tarnished
compression spheres and the long,
hooded monstrosities of the power
plants, inadequately served by har-
assed and overworked technies.
In the middle of his office Mich’l
found the telucid counterpart of
Mila, sister of Nida Mane. She was
younger than Nida, hardly more than
sixteen. Her eyes were wide with
terror as she sought Mich’l. Her
cheeks were wet with tears, and her
silken brown hair fell in careless dis-
array.
“Mich’l!” she cried, as soon as
she saw him, “Lane Motion has taken
Nida!”
“Taken her!”
“And Father is under arrest. Lane
came this morning, crazy with mero-
lite gum. He had four or five sol-
diers with him. When Nida refused
to see him they broke down the door
and went to her room. They dragged
her out to Lane’s car, and he took her
to hiB warren near the Presidential
quarters.”
“She there now?”
“Yes. Father followed Lane’s car.
Guards kept him out of Lane’s war-
ren, so he went to see Motion. That
devil only laughed at him, offered
to call another Referendum. Father
204
ASTOUNDING STORIES
had a small pocket needle-ray
and — ”
“Good! He killed Mollon?”
“No. But he managed to burn a
hole through his arm. He was
rushed ofl to one of the cells. And
Mollon says he will call a Referen-
dum to decide Father’s fate.”
“It would be just like that devil’s
sense of humor to let the people de-
cree their only friend’s death.”
“rpHEY’LL do it too!” Mila ex-
X claimed tragically. “Oh, how
I wish Mother were alive!”
“And each one will feel deep
within him that he has done a great,
commendable and original thing!”
Mich’l added, with keen insight.
Mila sank to the floor. ~~
“Go to your room,” Mich’l said,
gently stern. “Mollon and his gang
have reckoned without the technies.”
A woman’s image appeared, stooping
commiseratingly over Mila — a friend
of the family. Mich’l ordered her to
care for Mila. Then he took a deep
breath. Gone was his feeling of
helpless sorrow, leaving only an
overwhelming, steadying, satisfying
anger. He flung the telucid switch,
barked cracking orders.
In half an hour every technical
man of Subterranea was in a large
storeroom near Mich’l's office. They
were mostly young, keen and alert,
their skins red or brown from the
actinic lights, their hair showing
more or less bleaching from the same
cause. As Mich’l talked they became
intent; they listened with a cold,
deadly silence that would perhaps
have made the smug millions of Sub-
terranea quake with fear.
This affront put upon the only man
in the Government who could speak
their language, who could compre-
hend their ideals; the peril of the
girl they all knew and loved: these
things set their long-repressed re-
sentment flaring to white heat. They
were ready for desperate things. A
turn of a valve and water would
thunder through the maze of gal-
leries; a mishap far, far down to-
ward the earth’s hot core, and steam
would rush up—
B UT Mich’l steadied them. After
all, Subterranea was their coun-
try. Anarchy was far from the tech-
nie ideals. He had a plan.
“Nothing is to be done until we
have Senator Mane and Nida," Mich’l
instructed them. “Remember that!
Do nothing until you hear from me.
Each of you go to your station. Set
all adjustments so that they will not
need attention for some weeks, at
least. Those of you who have fam-
ilies, tell them to be ready to move
to another residence. Say nothing
about any trouble — understand?”
There were nods of assent.
“You will proceed to your posts
and keep busy. When I come it’ll
be by telucid. I will say nothing. I
will simply wave my hand. That
means you are to take your wives,
your families, your sweethearts, to
Substation No. 37X.”
There were audible gasps.
“Not 37X!” exclaimed one of the
older men. “Why, that's twenty
miles up, near the Frozen Gate!"
“Yes!” Mich’l smiled with tight
lips. “You men willing?”
There was an instantaneous shout
of approval. Curiously enough, seiz-
ure of the Gate by force had not oc-
curred to any of this law-abiding,
well-disciplined group. But Mot-
ion’s lawless seizure of the Govern-
ment had removed all inhibitions of
that sort. Seizure of the Gate would
bring at one stroke the realization of
the dream that the technies had tried
for generations to win by political
means. Surely, when the Gate was
open, and they could see the glorious,
half-mythical Sun for themselves,
the people would consent to the Exo-
dus!
For the technies, even in the bit-
terness of defeat, were not anti-
social. They hoped and worked for
IF THE SUN DIED
205
the devitalised races of Subterranea,
for the betterment of their condition,
more than for their own. The tech-
nics were the fittest; they had dem-
onstrated their ability to survive un-
changed under adverse conditions.
They would be least helped by the
Bxodus. Yet they had worked for
it all their lives, as had their fathers
before them, out of unselfish love for
humanity. There have always been
such men. Through the murk of his-
tory we see their lives as small,
steady lights, infrequent and lonely.
With the opening of the Frozen Gate
suddenly a possibility, the technics
forgot their exasperation with the
stupid mob.
T HE Gate is guarded," said an
elderly man dubiously.
“A small guard,” Gobet Hanlon re-
marked quickly, "and probably dazed
with merclite. Nothing to fear."
“Stay away from the Gate." Mich’l
instructed. “Give no cause for alarm.
If an emergency arises while I’m
fane, see Gobet."
“Don’t go alone, Mich'l," Gobet
begged. “A few of us with ray-
■eedlea can storm the detention cells.
We can clean out Lane’s warren."
“We might, but the Senator and
Nida would be gone. The alarm
•ould be given. In a few minutes
there’d be a mob."
The technics were already dispers-
ing eagerly. Mich’l pressed his
friend’s hand, saying:
“I'll take my needle-ray, and I
bow every way to get around there
k Alone, I’ll attract no attention. Till
hter, Gobet I” And he was gone.
Mich’l’s way was through the
•aaller, less frequented communica-
tion passages used principally by the
hcfanies. Occasionally he did meet
still light-headed after their
diction victory celebration, and lost,
km he paid them no heed. He came
lo the ventilation center of that level.
For ages no air had entered Sub-
Inanea from the outside. All of
the air had to be regularly recon-
ditioned, and so was returned,
through a systematic network of air
ducts, to a vast, central chemical
plant. It was a latter-day Cave of
the Winds, where the north, south,
east and west winds of that buried
empire regularly returned for a brief
few minutes of play amid chemical
sprays, condensers, humidifiers, oxy-
disers, to be again dispatched to their
drudgery. This hall was truly colos-
sal, filled to the shadowy ceilings,
a thousand feet high, with gigantic
pipes, tanks, wind-turbines.
nnHE technie in charge had not
J/jyet returned, but Mich’l con-
sulted the distribution plan, and
soon located the duct that led to
Lane Motion’s warren. In a few
minutes he was running, helped
along by a strong current of fresh
air. The map had shown the warren
to be about a mile away. For the
benefit of the technics who had to
work there, the duct was plainly
marked; and the lighting, by infre-
quent emanation bulbs, was ade-
quate, though dim.
Mich’l had made no plans for a
course of action after arriving at
his destination. He felt reasonably
sure that if he could get into the
warren he would have a good chance
to escape with Nida. In the confu-
sion he could hide her nearby, and
perhaps effect the release of the
senator also. He had no doubt about
his fate if he were caught. Lane's
pose of good sportsmanship having
failed to impress Nida, he had
adopted simple, brutal coercion.
Mich’l’s fate, if caught interfering,
would be summary execution.
Mich’l found the grating which he
sought. It bore the key number of
Lane’s establishment. The key which
would unlock it was of course in the
hands of the police; but the bars
were badly corroded, and Mich’l
nanaged to bend them enough to per-
mit the passage of his body.
206
ASTOUNDING STORIES
He found himself in a small
chamber, from which ducts led to all
parts of the warren. These ducts
were too small to permit passage of
his body, however : it would be neces-
sary to come into the open. A small
metal door promised egress, Mich’l
climbed out, and faced a surprised
cook in the kitchen, -engaged in flav-
oring synthetic food prinks. Mich’l
said explanatorily : ■
“Inspection, air service.”
The cook did not know the reg-
ulations about keeping the air tun-
nels locked. Moreover, he, like all
other servants of the mighty, worked
unwillingly, being conscripted. He
only grunted.
M ICH’L made a pretense of test-
ing the air currents. Presently
he stepped into one of the communi-
cating corridors. The warren was
planned something like a house of
the Surface Age, with luxuriously
furnished rooms, baths, dining halls,
and all the appurtenances of wealth.
Arriving .at a rotunda,- in the center
of which was a glowing fountain,
Mich’l encountered a guard. Boldly
he asked him:
“Where is Mr. Mollon? I wish
to see him.”
The guard looked surprised.
"About Nida Mane, sir? I would
hardly dare.”
Mich’l looked at the man sharply,
but there was no hint of recognition
in the stupid, phlegmatic face.
“What about Nida Mane? It is
about her I wish to speak.”
There was a slight stirring of in-
terest in the soldier’s face.
“He will be glad to see you, sir, if
you bring news of her.”
“Eh, yes? Perhaps what I have to
tell will be of no interest to him.”
“If you can tell him where she
is he will ask no more of you.”
“She made good her escape then?”
Slow suspicion was dawning at
last.
“For one who brings news you ask
a lot of questions,” the guard re-
marked heavily, as his hand slipped
to the needle-ray weapon at his side.
“Show your pass!”
Like a flash Mich’l was upon him,
his hand at the thick throat, the other
grasping the wrist. Although the
soldier, like the majority of the pop-
ulace, lacked the intense vitality of
the technies, he had stubborn
strength, and he fought effectively in
the drilled, automatic way of his
kind. Mich’l was further handi-
capped by the necessity of maintain-
ing silence. One shout, and a dozen
needle-rays would no doubt perforate
his body with holes and slash hit
flesh with smoldering cuts.
G RUNTING and sweating, they
fought all around the rose-col-
ored curb of the fountain. At last
Mich’l succeeded in forcing his ad-
versary over the low stone, and they
went over together with a resound-
ing splash. The straining body of
the guard suddenly relaxed, and a
spreading red cloud in the water dis-
closed that he had struck his head
against the first of the terraces that
rose in the fountain’s mist-shrouded
center.
Up one of the corridors a door
opened, and an angry voice shouted:
“Gurka! Gurkal I’ll have you in
bracelets! Captain of the guard!”
“Sir!” From another of the cor-
ridors came a sound of running feet
A command rang Out :
“On the double!”
An officer, followed by four sol-
diers, dashed around the corner and
flashed by the fountain. Peering
over the curb, Mich’l saw them, some
hundred yards away, come to a halt
before an opened door. With a thrill
of exultation Mich’l recognized the
tall figure of Lane Mollon, looking
like a slightly damaged satyr of the
better class, for his head was ban-
daged, and he was in bad humor.
"Captain!” he stormed, “I want
you to put that damned louse in sol-
IP THE SUN DIED
207
itary confinement for a year. Hear?"
“Yes, air.” Like a megaphone the
long corridor carried the low, re*
apectful words to Mich’l’s ears.
Lane continued to storm:
“And if you put another damned
merclite-crazy blunker* on guard in
this place I’ll have your commission.
Hear?"
“Yes, sir.*
A QUICK decision was neces-
sary, and Mich'l acted without
hesitation. The guard had rolled
over on his back, so that his face
was out of the water, and he was
breathing with quick, painful gasps,
lfichl dragged him up under the
concealing shelter of the fountain
ipray, and there changed clothes
With him. In the meantime the flow-
ing water washed away the red stain
ft blood. When the captain returned
with his guard, Mich’l was lying re-
alistically In the pool, apparently
deep in drugged sleep, the little kepi
tilted rakishly over his face.
He was roughly seized and drag-
ged out of the water to the accom-
paniment of much cursing. A fist
crashed into his face.
Suddenly the soldiers felt the su-
pine figure under their hands explode
Into energy. Elbows and fists seemed
to fly from all directions at once. A
needle-ray appeared, and before they
could draw their own weapons they
were howling with pain as searing
welts drew over their bodies. With
one accord they plunged into the
pool. Only the officer remained, and
he fell to the mosaic floor, his weapon
half raised, the small black hole in
his chest giving off a burnt odor.
Mich’l appropriated the officer’s
brassard of rank, and, menacing the
cowed guards, forced them to herd
into a nearby room, carrying the
body of the officer with them. Mich’l
“Blanker— a blunderer, an oaf. Mechan-
ical recording had preserved the language
In much of Its original form, but new
words did creep in.
locked the door and looked around.
He saw no one observing him, and
could count on carrying a pretty
good bluff in his uniform, which was
rapidly shedding its water. With a
firm step Mich’l walked to Lane Mot-
ion’s door, threw it open, and en-
tered.
L ANE sat up on his couch, his
feet striking the floor with an
angry thump. But when be recog-
nized Mich’l he paled slightly.
“Where is sfte,?X Mich’l demanded
roughly, “beforuunirn you down I”
“You said onb^Mpane began sneer-
Ingly, “that j^^Vanted to fight me.
Now, if yoi|^Hpt put down that—”
“Not nodP^mich’l dissented with
deadly-chldness, “Where is Nida?
Speak fast."
Lane did so.
“She isn’t here. The little short*
crowned me with a chair, and slipped
out. How did I — "
“When? Hurry up I"
“Hardly an hour ago. She walked
down the corridor, showed a thick-
witted guard my own executive pass,
and got away. But I got that
guard — "
“Never mind what you did to the
guard — ”
Suddenly the Image of an officer
strange to Mich’l stood in the room
and saluted smartly.
“Has Captain Ilgen Mr. Lane Mot-
ion’s leave to stay?” he asked.
Mollon started forward, but be-
fore he could disclose his predica-
ment Mich’l had sidled over to him
and thrown one arm affectionately
over his shoulder. In his- hand, con-
cealed by the rich folds of Lane’s
robe, Mich’l held his needle-ray, and
it was pressed firmly against Lane’s
ribs.
“Mr. Mollon will be glad to hear
you,” Mich’l said smoothly.
“Shore— trouble-maker, spitfire. A col-
loquialism probably growing out of the
once frequently need electrical term,
“short-circuit.”
208
ASTOUNDING STORIES
H E fancied that the eyes of the
officer’s image dilated slightly,
but it lost none of its military rigor.
But some explanation of his presence
there in his still damp uniform must
be given Ilgen, so he growled, in a
voice that he tried to make a bit
thick, as if he had chewed too much
merclite:
“At ease, Captain. At easel Damn
it man, you don't jhave to be so
damned military. 'You’re among
friends!’’ And he towseled Lane’s
dark hair affectionately.
Captain Ilgen looked his disgust.
“Sir,” he said to Lane, “we recap-
tured Nida Mane as She tried to
board a public car near the Execu-
tive Mansion.”
The black lens at the end of
Mich’l’s needle-ray pressed hard, and
Lane said naturally:
"You have her in custody?”
“Sir, we have.” And to MichTs
dismay, Nida, defiant, her lovely
form half revealed by rents in her
garments, seemed to materialize be-
side the officer. Her wrathful eyes
were fixed on Lane, and then she saw
Mich’l.
The technie put all his will into
the pleading stare which he returned,
and she understood. She gave no
sign of recognition, but favored both
Lane and Mich’l equally with the
chill of her disdain.
"Sir, what are .your orders?”
Lane glanced aside at Mich’l,
acutely conscious of the lethal pres-
sure in his ribs.
“ 'Sail right with me, old fellow,"
Mich’l squawked good-humoredly.
"This your girl that got away from
you? Let’s both go over and bring
her back.”
Lane nodded assent. The soldier
saluted, and his vision and that of
the girl disappeared.
“And we’re going to do just that!”
Mich’l added in an entirely changed
voice. “Get up, you. Act right,
speak right, do right, and you may
live to see another day.”
S O the two. left the warren in ap-
parent amity, and walked the
beautiful street, with its richly
formed, brightly colored arches, its
seemingly illimitable vistas, its lux-
uriant, pampered decorative vegeta-
tion, its blazing lights — until at last
they came to Administration Circle
and entered the ponderous gates be-
hind which lay the very heart of the
Government.
They were challenged at once
Although the officer of the guard
knew Lane, usage required the show-
ing of the daily pass. Many high of-
ficers of the Government had in yean
past fallen fromjgrace overnight.
This formality complied with,
Lane and Mich’l, the latter with his
ray-needle ever ready, sat down to
wait in the guard room. And Lane,
under Mich'l’s quiet prompting, or-
dered that Nida and her father be
brought to him.
"We shall bring the girl, yes,” the
astonished officer protested, “but not
Senator Mane. He is a prisoner of
Btate.”
"Perhaps you don’t know, Cap-
tain," Mich’l suggested smoothly,
“that it is not wise to disregard the
orders of the Provisional President’s
son?”
“It would cost me my commission,
perhaps my life !” the officer said.
“Neither would be worth much if
you disobey!” Mich’l countered, a
wire edge creeping into his voice.
The officer looked into Lane’s
stormy face, then with great reluc-
tance retreated to carry out the
order.
In about ten minutes he was back,
with four guards and his prisoners.
He explained that Captain Ilgen .was
detained on official duty.
“You may go,” said Lane,
prompted by a jab in the ribs.
“A written receipt, please, sir, for
the senator.”
Glowering, Lane wrote out the de-
sired document.; At last they were
alone.
IF THE SUN DIED
"Our program," Mich’l announced
briskly, “is simple. You will con-
duct us to one of the Government
cars, and will ride with us to such
places as we may direct, and I shall
release you when it pleases me. If
you then want to fight, I will accom-
modate you."
“I would be willing to fight you,
as head of the technies,” Lane coun-
tered sullenly, “but I wouldn’t be
bothered with a rebel and a traitor.
You’ve overstepped yourself this
time, my fine bolthead, and all, I ask
is a front seat at your execution."
T HEY stepped into the brightly
lighted hall, and in that instant
•Mich’l felt a searing heat on his
shoulder. Without a moment’s pause
be hurled Senator Mane and the girl
back into the room. At the same mo-
ment he flung an arm around Lane’s
neck and pulled him back into the
doorway, where he could use him as
a shield while he cautiously peered
out into the corridor. His shoulder
throbbed painfully, but his move-
ment had prevented the needle-ray
from penetrating deeply in any one
place.
A Bhort distance up the corridor
was a wider space, in the center of
which stood a large bronze urn filled
with exotic plants. Behind this urn
were several soldiers, and Mich’l rec-
ognized the sharp-eyed Captain
Ilgen. So that officer had recog-
nized the true state of affairs, or had
strong suspicions! But in his haste
and eagerness he had overlooked one
important fact. In the guardroom
were riot-rays, heavy replicas of the
ordinary hand weapons. They had
, not been needed for many years, but
the technies had always kept them
fully charged and in order.
"Nidat" Mich’l called, not remov-
ing his eye from the doorway.
“Yes?" She was standing beside
him, and Mich’l thrilled to the ad-
miration and positive affection in her
intonation.
“Notice those short tubes mounted
on light wheels over against the
walls? Those are riot-ray projec-
tors. Wheel me over a couple."
Nida did as directed. Mich’l stuck
the stubby muzzle of one of the
nearest weapons into the corridor,
pulled the lever and swung the ray
in an arc toward the ambushed sol-
diers. There was a sharp crackling
noise and the heat chipped myriads
of flakes off the. stone walls, leaving
a gray path across the rich murals,
and the air was filled with flying
particles. The heat was terrific. It
beat' back into the doorway.
Captain Ilgen gave a short, sharp
order, and he and his men retreated
before the bronze urn began to wilt
and drip melted metal. He could not
be accused of cowardice, for his hand
weapons were puny compared to the
riot-rays.
“Quick, before he gets in touch
with the outer guard!” Mich’l urged
his prisoner forward, Senator Mane
following. The gravte patriarch of
rhetoric made a striking picture as he
dragged the second riot-ray along.
The other one was abandoned, locked
with full power on. It was convert-
ing that corridor into an inferno, and
there would be no pursuit through
that avenue.
M ICH'L pushed open the metal
door suddenly. Two guards
on duty were just coming in, their
hand weapons ready. They never
knew what struck them for there was
no time for compunction. But even
as their bodies sank to the paving
there was the harsh clangor of alarm
bells. Soldiers dashed from every-
where and came running, their
needle-rays menacing.
“In there I" Mich'l shouted. He
pointed to the doors, at the dead
guards. As they hesitated, he
added :
"Revolution ! They're storming
the President’s office! Hear the
rays?”
210
ASTOUNDING STORIES
Through the doors came a faint
humming, an acrid unell of heat, of
atone and metal fumes. A corporal
saluted Mich’l, recognized Lane’s
haggard features, and Lane again felt
that cogent persuader in his ribs.
"That’s right. Corporal I” he said
bitterly.
"Is the guard room occupied, sir?”
“Not now, you fool!” Mich’l snap*
ped at him. This resolved the last of
the corporal’s misgivings. Giving an
{order, he led his men in, gasping.
"Now we’ll run!" Mich’l ordered,
giving Lane a shove. “Coming,
Nida?’’ She was, dragging her
father along joyously. TRey crossed
the broad pedestrian walk, and in the
street found an official car nestling
on one of the tracks.
"Heave in the riot-ray, will you,
old fellow?’’ Mich’l requested jov-
ially, and Lane did. Then the list-
less chauffeur turned a controller,
and the big car rose a few inches,
lightly as a feather, and sped away
swiftly through the maze of traffic.
S OMETIME later they were in a
service lift; not one of the great'
public lifts that carried their hun-
dreds at a trip, but one of the small
lifts used mostly by the technics,
and known to few outside their
ranks. Mich’l, standing blissfully
close to ' Nida and her father, en-
joyed his moment of relaxation.
Many things had been attended to.
Lane had been released at list, in
one of the catacomb cemeteries. It
would take him at least two hours
to find his way out. They were dis-
cussing the riot-ray, which they had
with them.
"I hope we won’t have to exhaust
it in a fight before we get out,” Sen-
ator Mane said anxiously. "It would
be a splendid weapon if we encoun-
ter a hostile environment Outside.
“The Gate U guarded,” Mich’l said
practically, “but we expect to sur-
prise them. No use wor ryi ng.”
The lift came to a stop at an air-
lock. The great elevator shafts were
closed by airlocks every 2,000 feet.
The reason is obvious. If the air
of the great, spheroid subterranean
nation were allowed to freely obey
the laws of gravity, it would be op-?
pressively dense in the lower levels,
and excessively rarified in the upper
ones. While the airlocks were op-
erating Mich’l stepped to a telucid
and gave the agreed-on signal.
In another half hour they were at
37X. The great, dusty, and little-used
storeroom was only poorly lighted;
it was dank, and had an uncomfort-
able chill. Technies and their fam-
ilies were coming in from all sides,
and it was not long before some five
hundred persons, men, women and
children, were assembled. Many of
them were pale and frightened look-
ing, for they were staking everything
on an ideal, a theory. There would
be no coming back. The statute books
of Subterranea decreed only one pen-
alty — death — for even the merest
tampering with the Frozen Gate. It
was not like this that they had vis-
ioned the opening of the Gate. Under
properly controlled conditions, it
would have been possible to open
the gate for preliminary explora-
tions. But not now. They were out-
side the law.
N IDA, Btanding beside Mich’l,
shivered and pulled her over-
robe closer around her. There was
sadness in her voice as she said :
"These children. . . . They remind
me of the thousands of children we
must abandon with our people. If I
could, I’d steal a few to take with
us.”
Mich’l grinned without mirth.
"And be damned as a kidnaper of
a particularly horrible sort, as long
as Subterranea lasts I”
"I know. I know. But what will
happen to them all when the auto-
matic machinery fails?”
"They may learn to run it, if they
have to. Or if we succeed in estab-
IF THE SUN DIED
211
lishing ourselves in the outer world
we can tunnel back to them around
the Cate in a year or so. Don’t worry
about them too much. We’re taking
the big risk, not they.”
Gobet Hanlon, accompanied by
Flos Entine and Mila Mane, ap-
proached. He was loaded down with
a huge case of concentrated food.
‘T’ve given orders to bring with
us all the (old resisting fabrics we
could carry. Got ’em loaded down,
eh?”
"All here?”
"Every last one.”
“Let’s go, then.” Mich’l stepped to
a small door that led into the main
corridor close to the Gate. This door
had not been used by the technies
when assembling. Through a tiny
hole the guard, four soldiers, could
be seen about a blanket, tossing six-
teen-sided dice. Mich’l opened the
door, his needle-ray pointed.
"Don’t move, or you burn!” he
commanded harshly.
T HE guards, taken completely by
surprise, did not move. In a few
moments they were bound, gagged,
and dqmped into a corner of 37X.
Eager technies were swarming over
the complicated mechanism that they
bad dared to touch, before, only for
inspection and maintenance. The
Frozen Gate was like a huge stopper
in a bottle, made of chromium steel.
It was thirty feet in diameter, and
thirty feet thick from its well in-
sulated inside face to that enigmat-
ical Outside that had been a grisly
mystery to the race for some five
hundred centuries.
There was a flash of sparks, and the
quiet hum of motors. With a shud-
dering groan . the great plug freed
itself from the grip of millenia;
turned a few inches in its hole. The
supporting gimbals took the load
now, and slowly the great mass
moved inward, carried by an over-
head traveling crane whose track was
bolted to the rock roof. The rate of
movement was slow, not much over
three or four inches a minute.
An excited murmur filled the cav-
ern — almost hysterical joy. But
Mich’l, watching that widening mar-
gin for the dreaded gush of liquid
air, only trembled with relief. At
least the calamity that had visited
rash Atlantica wou'd not be repeated
here.
A young technie, one of the heat
distributors, climbed up the heavy
bosses on the gateway's face.
“I’m going to be the first to see
the Sun!” he shouted joyously. His
challenging gaze roved over the wait-
ing crowd, and suddenly his face
turned ashen. For at the turn of
the corridor, some hundred yards
away, he had seen men. No mis-
taking those uniforms; they.’frere
soldiers. And Mich’l, following his
gaze, saw a riot-ray being wheeled
into place. His own riot-ray already
co’mmanded the corridor, but be
dared not use it. The soldiers, under
the partial protection of the turn,
could incinerate the helpless tech-
nies with little danger to themselves.
“Wait!” Mich’l shouted, running
into the open.
A N officer came to meet him. He
then recognized Captain Ilgen,
whose exceptional shrewdness had
almost undone him before. Ilgen
could not see the slow movement of
the gate, and Mich’l, himself wea-
ponless, counted only on parleying
for time.
They met midway between the two
forces, and the small black lens of
the captain’s weapon pointed steadily
at MichTs' chest.
“Mich'l Ares, I arrest you.” It
seemed that the captain’s fine gray
eyes looked out of the lean face with
real sympathy. "It may be there will
be executive clemency for these peo-
ple of yours, but for you — ”
Mich’l, tense and deadly, saw the
captain’s vigilant attention leave his
face for a second ; saw his eyes widen
212
ASTOUNDING STORIES
In consternation. He could not know
that Ilgen had' seen a slender cres-
cent of green light appear in the
Frozen Gate, but he did not lose the
opportunity. His fist crashed on the
captain’s jaw, so that the soldierly
figure reeled and the needle-ray fell
to the ground. Mich’l leaped after
him, picked him up, held him. The
riot-ray was turned full on him, and
a soldier’s hand trembled on the
lever. But it did not pull.
“You’ll kill him!’’ Mich’l shouted.
And then he ventured to turn his
head to look at the -Gate. He saw
the first of the fugitives struggle
into the narrow crack. The gate
seemed to have stuck, and there was
barely room to pass. ilgen, half con-
scious, was trying to rain blows on
Mich’l’s back, compelling him to
stop and pass the officer’s hands
through the belt of his tunic and to
manacle them with a pair of bracelets
which be found in his pocket. As
he staggered toward the Gate with
his burden, he saw Gobet beside him,
the stolen riot-ray menacing the sol-
diers, who would otherwise have
rushed in.
S UDDENLY Ilgen struggled up-
right.
“Fire,” he commanded in sten-
torian tones.
“They’ll kill you too, you fool I”
Mich’l exclaimed angrily.
“I am a soldier!" Ilgen answered
with contempt. His legs barely sup-
ported his weight, and he was strug-
gling to free his manacled hand9. He
threw himself into the narrow crev-
ice of the Gate, to obstruct the
stream of fugitives. He started to
shout again :
“Fi — ” Crack I Again Mich’l’s fist
caught him. He hooked the officer’s
elbows over two of the bosses, so
that he was supported in plain sight
of his men, and turned to urge haste.
The last two stragglers were hurry-
ing through, and with relief Mich’l
turned to follow. But he set the
closing mechanism in motion before
he leaped for the narrow opening
that was becoming still narrower,
though very slowly. Now for that
green crescent of light, and hope I
He felt a wave of heat. Glancing
back, he saw the irresolute guards
scattered by the enraged charge of a
square, blocky man in civilian robe —
the usually smiling Provisional
President, Senator Motion. Motion
himself was fumbling with the lever
of the riot-ray. Ilgen had evidently
reported where he was going before
starting in pursuit of the technies.
Again that withering flash of heat,
and Mich’l saw Captain Ilgen, still
semi-conscious, suddenly turn red-
faced. Mollon would burn him up
without compunction, in the hope of
catching one of the fugitive technies.
And now a figure in uniform leaped
forward at Mollon’s angry gesture,
and bent purposefully to the- sight-
ing tube.
The crescent was now so slender
that Mich’l had to turn sideways to
squeeze back into the corridor. And
slowly, inexorably, it was growing
smaller still. With desperate haste
the practiced, uniformed man was
adjusting his range.
Captain Ilgen struggled when
Mich’l seized him.
“I arrest — ”
Mich’l thought for a sickening mo-
ment that he was caught in the
closing gate. Then he was free in
the cylindrical tunnel into which the
plug was creeping. Luckily Ilgen
was slight. His body squeezed
through with little more difficulty
than Mich’l’s own. Now the open-
ing was too small for any man’s body.
A red glow illuminated that narrow-
ing slit; an acrid wave of heat, and
the smell of burnt metal came with
the strong current of air that blew
out of Subterranea.
M ICH’L dragged his captive
down the rocky tunnel, the
floor of which dipped gently away
IF THE SUN DIED
213
from the Gate; for drainage, no
doubt. Around a bend, the source of
the greenish light was apparent. The
fugitives were in an ice cavern. The
light seemed to emanate from roof
and walls. The air was uncompro-
misingly chill, for the blast of warm
air from Subterranea had stopped.
But the cold of the air was noth-
ing to the icy chill that settled on
the heart of Mich'l Ares, and the
hearts of Senator Mane, and the
other leaders of this desperate enter-
prise. So this, this was the Outside!
A cavern of ice — small, hemmed-inl
Those ancient folk-legends of a Sun—
“I arrest you, Mich’l Ares!”
Mich’l laughed shortly. What a
single-minded fellow this Captain
Ilgen was! Still groggy, of course.
Didn’t know where they were. He
left the soldier with the red, blis-
tered face.
“Mich’l 1 Mich’l !’’ a voice echoed
shrilly from the ice walls. It was a
high-pitched voice, and an excited
one. A boy came flying out of a nar-
row crevice, his short robe flying,
his cloth-wrapped legs twinkling.
“Mich’l I’’ he shouted, “I saw it ! I
saw the Sun, the beautiful Sun I’’
Lucky it was that in the rush no
one was hurt. The small cleft opened
into a wide tunnel, a low-ropfed cave
through which milky-w^ite water
flowed. The cave* opened upon a
vista of blue sky and towering moun-
tains whose tops were-burdened with
snow and upon whose sides glaciers
slid down and melted ; and the milky-
white stream brawled down into a
green valley, far, far below. On
a mountain meadow, not far from the
glacier that still buried the Frozen
Gate, they rested. . . .
A ND so came a new Btrain of hu-
manity upon the surface of the
earth — a strain tempered and refined
by the inexorable process of evolu-
tion and environment. Already ani-
mal life had reappeared, drastically
changed and ruthlessly weeded out
by the most severe Ice Age the world
had ever known, and now Man stood
once more on a new threshold of
time.
Something of this may have passed
through the minds of the refugees
luxuriating in the strong sunlight of
this mountain meadow, and in active
and alert brains the foundations of
a new civilization were already being
built.
They were preparing to go into the
valley below when there was a dull
concussion. The glacier over the
Frozen Gate rose slightly, then dis-
appeared completely out of sight,
leaving a yawning hole in the moun-
tainside. Ice and rocks slid down,
filling the hole. The refugees gazed
at the scene in fear and wonder.
“They have blown up the gate!
And the chambers leading to it!’’
Senator Mane— now only Leo Mane
— said slowly, “There goes our last
chance to save them!” His tones
were deeply sad. He could not look
upon these people as an experiment
that Nature had abandoned, although
he knew that history is thronged
with the shadows of vanished races,
culled by the process of natural
selection.
ButTfouth looks only ahead. The
majority of the rescued technies
were young, and with eagerness and
anticipation, they followed Mich’l
and Nida Ares down into the valley
to build their first homes.
The Midget
From the Island
A COMPLETE NOVELETTE
By H. G. Winter
m Por God's sake, Hagendorjf , what's corns over ,».r
I N the chill of an early morning, a
rowboat drifted aimlessly down
the Detroit River. It seemed to
have broken loose from its moor-
ing and been swept away; its
outboard motor
was silent and it
swung in slow
circles as the cur-
rents caught at it
But the boat carried a passenger.
A man’s nude body stretched face
downward in it.
It was a startling figure that lay
there.
Garth Howard, prey to half the aid-
malt of the form
to retain hit loot
malt of the fomt fights valiantly
t five feet of tire.
The body was fully matured
and had a splen-
did development
of rounded mus-
cles — and yet it
was not more than
214
216
ASTOUNDING STORIES
that, though the skin showed many
wounds and was blue from long
exposure, the heart was still beat-
ing. And realising that the life
might flicker out beneath their eyes
unless they took action immediately,
they proceeded to work over him.
After some minutes, the dwarf
gave signs of returning conscious-
ness. His lids fluttered and opened,
disclosing eyes that filled suddenly
with terror as they stared into the
faces, huge in comparison, that
leaned over his. One of the officers
said reassuringly:
“You're all right, buddy: you’re
on a harbor police launch. But who
in the devil are you? D’you speak
English? Where’d you come from?"
T HE midget struggled to speak;
struggled desperately’ to tell
something of great importance. They
bent closer. Gasping, high-pitched
words came to their ears, and the
st6r y that those words ^Jtold hild
them spellbound. When the shfijl
voice ceased and the dwarf sqfik
clearing and cautiously entered the
cabin.
For a moment there was silence.
Then came a terrified shout, fol-
lowed by the bunched thunder of a
succession of pistol shots. The re-
verberations slowly died away, and
some time later the policemen re-
appeared and stood outside the door.
One of them, dazed, kept repeat-
ing over and over, “I wouldn’t have
believed it I I wouldn’t have believed
it 1” and another nodded in wordless
agreement. The third, white-faced,
stared for a long time unaeeingly
at the cloud-flecked bowl of the
sky. ...
But it would be best, perhaps, to
tell the story as it happened.
T HE incredible events that
shaped it began two nights be-
fore, when die larger of the two
rooms in the island cabin was
bathed in the bald glare of a strong
floodlight that threw into sharp
prominence the intent features of
two men in the room, and the
back into the coat they had thrown
around him, the two policemen
gazed at each other. One whistled
softly, and his companion said so-
berly :
“We'd better phone up and have
the local police tend to this right
assay, Bill.”
Thus, two hours later, several
miles up the river, another launch
containing three officers came to its
destination, a solitary, thickly-
wooded island that brooded under
a cloak of silence where the river
leaves broad Lake St. Clair. The
complicated details of the strange
equipment around them.
Garth Hosvard, the younger of the
two, seas holding a tiny, Bquawling,
spitting thing, not more than three
inches long, which might have
seemed, at a quick glance, to have
been a normal enough kitten. Closer
inspection, however, would have re-
vealed that it had a thick, smooth
coat, a lithe, fully developed body
and narrowed, venomous eyes ■
things which no week-old kitten
ever possessed. It was a mature
cat, but in the size of a kitten.
launch crept up to a mooring post
a few feet from a small, rough
beach, and was tied there. Quickly,
the men waded ashore and tiptoed
up a winding trail that was barred
from the sun by dank foliage. They
soon came to a clearing where a
large cabin had been built. There,
one of them whispered, “Guns out I”
Then the three men crossed the
Howard’s level gray eyes were
held fascinated by it. When hi
spoke, his words were hushed and
almost reverent.
“Perfect, Hagendorff!” he said.
“Not a flaw!”
“The reduction has not improved
her temper,” Hagendorff articulated
precisely. His deep voice matched
the rest of him. Garth Howard’s
THE MIDGET PROM THE ISLAND
217
dean-muscled body stood a good
(j« feet off the floor, yet the other
tipped him by inches. And his face
compared well with his bulky body,
{or his head was massive, with
overhanging brows and a shaggy
mop of blond hair. Athlete and
weight-lifter, the two looked, but
is reality they were scientist and
tstistant, working together for s
f fiwnfln end.
T HE room in which they stood
was obviously a laboratory.
Bulky gas engines and a generator
■putted at one end; tables held
lacks of tools and loops of in-
sulated wiring and jars of various
chemicals. One long table stretched
tbs whole length of the room,
placed flush against the left wall,
whose rough planking was broken
by a lone window. There were racks
tf test tubes on this table, and tools,
■nlessly scattered by men intent
Os their work.
Still another table was devoted
Is several cages, containing the
uual martyrs of experimental
tdence : guinea pigs and rabbits,
rats and white mice. Beside these
sss a large box, screen topped, in
which, in separate partitions, were
S variety of insects: beetles and
flies and spiders and tarantulas.
But the thing that dominated the
laboratory was the machine on the
long table against the wall. Its
chamber, the most striking feature;
sss a cube of roughly six feet,
built of dull material resembling
bakdite. Wires trailed through it
(ram the glittering plate, which was.
the chamber’s floor, and a curved
spray-shaped projector overhead, to
an intricately constructed apparatus
studded with vacuum tubes. A small
switchboard stood beside the cham-
ber, and from it thick cables led
to the generator in the rear of the
room.
“Let us return her to normal,"
Hagendorff rumbled after a moment
or two devoted to prodding and
examining the diminutive cat. "Then
for the final experiment,”
One whole wall of the cubical
chamber was a hinged door, with a
tier of several peep-holes. Garth
Howard swung the door open, placed
the tiny, struggling cat inside and
quickly closed it again. “Right," he
said briefly, and pressed his eyes to
the bottom peep-hole.
A SWITCH was pulled over, and
the dynamo’s drone pulsed
through the room. Hagendorff’s fin-
gers rested on a large lever that
jutted from the switchboard. Slowly,
he pulled it to one side.
The imprisoned cat, small as a rat,
had been nervously whipping its
tail from side to side and meowing
plaintively; but, as the lever swung
over, there came a change. The
vacuum tubes behind the switch-
board glowed green; a bright white
ray poured from the spray in the
chamber, making the metal plate
below a shimmering, almost molten
thing. The animal’s legs suddenly
braced on it; its narrowed eyes
widened, glaxing weirdly, while
the tail became a stiff, bristling
ramrod. And, as a balloon swells
from a strong breath, the cat’s
body increased in size. It grew not
in spurts, but with a smooth, flow-
ing rhythm: grew as easily as a
flower unfolding beneath the sun.
In only a few seconds its original
size was attained. Howard raised
his hand; the lever shot back and
the white beam faded into nothing-
ness. A full sized and very angry
cat tore around the inside of the
chamber.
“Normal?" Hagendorff questioned.
The other nodded and prepared to
open the door.
“Wait I .She always was a little
undersized; I give her a few inches
more as a reward."
“Not too much," warned Garth.
“She's got a nasty temper: we
218
ASTOUNDING STORIES
don’t want a wildcat prowling round
here!”
The white beam flashed, the tubes
glowed and almost instantly flick-
ered off again. When the chamber’s
door was opened, an indignant and
slightly oversized cat bounded
through, leaped from the table with
a squawled oath of hatred and
streaked into the front room of the
cabin.
G ARTH turned and faced Hag-
endorff, a smile on his lips and
a gleam in his eyes. He ran his
fingers through his black hair.
“Well,” he said.^Tnow it’s time
for the final experiment. Who shall
it be?”
Hagendorff did not answer at
once, and the American went on:
“I think it'd better be me. There’s
a slight risk, of courser, end I. aa
the inventor, could never ask an
assistant to do anything I wouldn’t.
Is it all right with you?”
Hagendorff nodded quickly In
answer. Garth stood .reflecting for
a moment.
“Guinea pigs, rabbits and insects
have survived reduction to one-
twentieth normal size,” he said
slowly. “It should be safe for the
human body to descend just as far.
But stop me at about two feet this
first time. I’m not taking, any
chances; I want to be alive and
ricking when I announce the success
of my experiments to the scientific
world.”
His assistant said nothing.
“Well,, here goes,” Garth added.
“I’d better take off my clothes if
I don’t vint to be buried in them.
They’re not affected by the process.
Jfust be because of the lack of or-
ganic connection between their fibers
and the human body.”
A few minutes later, nude, he
jumped onto the laboratory table.
He presented a perfect specimen of
well-developed manhood as he stood
before the door of the chamber.
His smooth skin, under which the
rounded muscles rolled easily,
gleamed white beneath the glare of
the floodlight. His gray eyes glanced
at the stolid assistant, who already
had one hand on the switchboard's
lever. Garth saw that the hand was
trembling slightly, and smiled as he
realized Hagendorff was as excited
as he. He said:
“I’ll leave the door ajar, so you
can more easily watch every phase
of the reduction. If it’s painful-
well, I guess I can stand anything
a cat can I”
Then, stooping slightly, Garth
stepped in and drew the door al-
most shut.
H E relaxed as much as possible
from the tremendous excite-
ment that filled him, and nodded at
Hagendorff.
“I’m ready,” he siaid. "Go ahead I*
The ray came to his body as the
crash of thunder comes to the ear.
His nerves leaped as it struck and
enveloped him. He felt as if he
were entombed in ice, and yet his
veins were aflame. Fiery shafts
fanged him all through and re-
solved, presently, into a measured,
tingling beat.
His thoughts raced. He knew that
those minute particles of matter,
the atoms of his body, were being
compacted; he sensed that his legs
were rigid, his body stiff, his eyes
clamped ahead in a glazed Btare.
He was only half-conscious of the
objects outside, but the dim sight
of them was fantastic and nauseVus.
There was Hagendorff’s face peer-
ing in at him — growing I Swelling
as the cat’s body had swollen; and
yet receding and rising until Garth,
momentarily forgetting that he was
the one whose Bize was changing,
thought that the man’s titanic body
wpuld fill the room. But the room
was growing, too: the stools wqe
becoming leviathans of wood, the
walls were like cliffs, the compact
THE MIDGET PROM THE ISLAND
219
switchboard was a large surface of
black, and the chamber in which he
stood grew into a high-roofed vault,
its sides shooting up and retreating
ts if shoved by invisible hands.
And still he sank, and still the
terrible light devoured him.
Suddenly a delirious sensation en-
gulfed him; his senses went reeling
sway, and he Btaggered. Then with
a wrench he came to. As he re-
gained control of his mind he knew
the lever had been switched off
and the process completed.
He found that he was gasping.
He passed a hand over his sweat-
studded face and looked around.
O UTSIDE was the room of a
giant. And in a moment a
giant became visible. His vast bulk
filed the chamber’s doorway ; his
mammoth face peered in. Garth’s
eardrums quivered from a deep bass
rumble, sounding like thunder on a
distant horizon.
“Are you all right, Howard?’’
A finger half the length of his
own arm reached forward and
prodded him. For a second Garth
could do nothing but stare at it.
It brought home to him starkly the
puny size of his body, only two feet
in height He felt suddenly afraid.
But that was foolish, he thought;
and he laughed, his voice ludicrous-
ip high and shrill.
“I’m all right" he cried. “But I
can hardly understand you. If I
were much smaller, I probably
couldn’t — your voice’d seem so deep.
Gangway, Hagendorff, I’m coming
out I”
His eyes were just below the
level of the giant’s shoulders. He
stepped from the black chamber and
■tared amazedly at the room, at the
chairs, the objects in it — at the
laboratory table fin which he was
standing, along which he might have
sprinted thirty yards. A surge of
esultant animal spirits flowed
through him. His dream had be-
come a reality; the machine had
passed its last test I His body was
sound and whole; he felt perfectly
natural; he had not changed, save
in size ; and in size he was like
Gulliver, confronted with a Brob-
dingnagian roomt
He hurdled a five-inch-high box
of tools, ran down the creaking table
and stood laughing in front of a
rack of test tubes half as high as
he was. Three strides took Hagen-
dorff opposite him; and from above
the thunderous voice rumbled;
“What were your sensations?”
"Probably as close as man’ll ever
get to the feelings of a spark of
electricity 1” the midget replied.
“But bearable, though I was freez-
ing and burning at the same time.
My body was rigid, paralyzed —
just like the animals we used. I
couldn’t move.”
“You’re sure you couldn’t move?
You were helpless?"
T HE booming voice throbbed
with sudden interest. Garth
looked up curiously. "No,” he re-
peated, “I couldn’t move. But lift
me down, Hagendorff. I want to
take a walk on the floor.”
A hand wrapped around his body,
tensed and strained upwards. The
two-foot-high man was not quite
pulled off the table. Then Hagen-
dorff grunted and relaxed his grasp.
"I had forgotten,” he rumbled.
“Your weight remains the same.
You are one-third my size, yet you
weigh almost as much as I do.
Weight, which is the sum of the
mass of all the atoms in you, is
not, naturally, affected by com-
pacting those atoms.”
It was only by a great effort
that he was able to deposit the
manikin on the floor.
For a while Garth strolled around,
savoring to .their full the fantastic
sensations his diminished stature
gave him, at once amused and some-
how frightened by the overwhelm-'
220
ASTOUNDING STORIES
ing size of the laboratory. To his trapped. But why ? Why had Hagen-
eyes, the tables were like bridges; dorff tricked him?
Hagendorff’s broad figure loomed As if reading the question, the
monstrously over him, and the giant outside came close to the
guinea pigs and rabbits in their chamber’s door and regarded his
cages seemed as big as fair-sized captive with eyes that were lit by
dogs. With a grin, he looked up at a peculiar flame. He grunted, then
the giant who was his assistant. reached backward and returned the
“Think I’ll make the return trip, switchboard lever almost to the
and give you a chance,” he said, neutral point, reducing the speed
“I’ve had my share, and the process of the decreasing process,
has heen proven. It’s weird, being "Yes, that is better,’’ the German
down in this new world all alone, gloated, in a deep, satisfied tone.
I’d hate to think what would hap- "It will be slower, now. Slower—
pen if a rat came along 1” and more interesting to watch! . . .
Silently, Hagendorff stooped and I fancy your eyes are reproachful,
grasped him again. But Garth, when my friend. Why have I done it, yon
he stood once more inside the wonder? Ach! This machine, it
chamber, regarded li^s huge, rough- will startle the world of science;
moulded face curiopsly. it will make its inventoj famous—
“Say,” he said, puzzled, "your not? Yes; and did you think I was
hands are trembling like the devil! going to stand by and see all the
What’s wrong? You’re more nervous credit go to you? No! To me it shall
than I am!” go — me alone! And you — ” He
Hagendorff did not answer. He chuckled and rubbed his hands be-
advanced to the switchboard. His fore going on.
narrowed, deep-set eyes shot a “You shall be what the newspa-
quick glance at the small, nude man pers call a martyr to science. Yon
inside the chamber, and for a shall sink to a foot, to six inches—
second one hand hovered over the to one inch— even less, I think!
lever on the panel. Eventually the reduction will kill
you, of course; and your body shall
I N that tense second a flash of be proof of how you died — in an
intuition, of deadly fear, came experiment — and shall also prove
to Garth Howard, and he leaped the machine's power and my
wildly forward. But his rear foot genius!”
did not leave the floor of the cham-
ber, and his shout of alarm was TTE laughed thunderously, a
choked midway. Again the fierce ray I 1 blond and malevolent titan,
paralyzed every muscle in him, and He did not notice that, with the
he was locked motionless where he lessening of the reduction’s speed,
was. a slight trace of control over bis
Helplessly, his glazed eyes stared muscles had returned to the midget
at Hagendorff, while every moment inside. His tiny body was slowly
his rigid little body melted down- diminishing, and complete, hope-
wards. He was becoming rapidly less paralysis and death was not
smaller, not larger! far away. But Garth was fighting
Through the agony of the stab-^ kvery second, fighting desperately
bing electrical waves, in vain Garth' with the trace of strength he pos-
tried to wrench his legs free. The sessed to slide to the door, break
few inches that separated him from the contact and get out from under
the door were an impassable barrier, the ray’s remorseless influence. Al-
Sheer panic clutched him. He was most imperceptibly, the effort la-
THE MIDGET PROM THE ISLAND
221
ccrating him with pain, he slid his
feet forward. Hagendorff talked on.
He semed to be blinded by the
vision of the fame his treachery
•ould bring him.
“We shall have an experiment,
my Professor; and then you will
bave an interesting death I The ray
will suck you down ; you will
crumple and crumple till you’re n'ot
ouch bigger than my thumbnail I
And then I shall — ah!”
Garth had tom loose. Calling on
•very ounce of strength and will,
the midget, now no more than one
foot high, had reached the edge of
the floor plate and pitched out onto
the long laboratory table.
Giant and dwarf faced each other.
For a moment, neither spoke or
moved. A breathless tensity hung
over the laboratory. The machine
droned on, forgotten. From outside,
■tartingly near, came the eery hoot
of an owl.
A tight smile broke through the
ingry surprise on Hagendorff’s face.
“Well, well I" he said, with gargan-
tuan, macabre humor. “We object!
It was foolish, eh, to reduce the
power? Next time, it shall not be
M. We — object!"
With the word, he lunged, and
Us bulky arms lashed down in a
wide, grasping sweep.
But Garth’s taut muscles, re-
taining all the strength and vigor
of their normal size had been
awaiting just such a move, and his
tiny body described the arc of a
tremendous leap that neatly vaulted
one huge arm and started him
•printing swiftly down the table.
A T the end he wheeled, and be-
fore the other overcame his
surprise at such a nimble retreat,
burst out indignantly:
“For God’s sake, Hagendorff,
what’s come over you? Be sensible!
Tou can’t do this; you can’t really
naan It I Why—”
“So!” roared the assistant, and
his rush cut Bhort the midget’s
shrill, frantic words. But his grasp
this time was better judged; Garth
felt the great fingers slip over
his body. Remembering his strength,
he lashed out at one with all his
might. Hagendorff grunted with
pain; but instead of continuing the
attack, he suddenly turned and
strode to the door leading into
the other room, and closed it with
a bang.
“You cannot escape,” he growled,
advancing again; “you merely de-
lay.”
Panting, Garth glanced around
the room. He was, in truth, trapped.
There was but the one door; and
even if he could reach it, he could
not get it open, for t£e handle
would be far above him.. The room
was a sealed arena. For a little
while it would go on— -6 wild leap-
ing and dodging on-nhe table, a
hopeless evading of mammoth hands
. . . and then, inevitably, would
come a crushing grip on his body,
followed by experimentation and
the agony of death in the black
chamber.
Fearful, he waited, a perfect, liv-
ing statuette, twelve inches high. . . .
A grunt preluded the giant’s
vicious charge. The American stag-
gered from the brush of a sweep-
ing hand; then, twisting mightily,
he dove under it, like a mouse
slipping under the paw of a cat. In
doing so he fell sprawling; and
though he was up in a moment, his
arm was held. A hoarse, exultant
rumble came to his ears.
“Caught, my friend!”
But Hagendorff spoke too soon.
With a great wrench, Garth broke
free, and made a tigerish dash back
along the table toward the window.
And even as the clumsy titan
jumped to the side and grabbed
again at him, he hurled his tiny,
heavy body against the pane, and
went plunging through a shower of
glass into the cool dark night outside.
222
ASTOUNDING STORIES
H E fell five feet, and the wind
was jarred out of him as he
crashed through the branches of a
bush under the window into the
sodden earth beneath. Unhurt, save
for a few lacerations from the glass,
he staggered to his feet, gasping
for his breath, and started to run
across the clearing towards the
fringe of dense forest growth that
ringed the cabin.
Then he heard thunderous foot-
steps, and, a second later, the sound
of the front dot^r being pulled
open. Garth turnep in his tracks,
and stumbled back beneath the
cabin, thanking heaven that it was
raised on short stilts. But the ruse
did not give him much of a start,
and by the time he liad painfully
threaded his way between the piles
of timber left underneath the cabin,
Hagendorfi had discovered the trick
and was scouting back.
Then, with the strength of the
hunted, Garth was out from under
the other side and sprinting for the
doubtful sanctuary of the forest.
His tiny feet, carrying the weight
of a normal-sized man, sank ankle
high into the muddy ground, sev-
eral times almost tripping him.
Even as he got to where a trail
through the bush began, and passed
from the cold starlight into spaces
black with clustered shadows, he
heard a bellow from behind, and,
glancing back, saw a monstrous
shape come leaping on his tracks.
He had only seconds in which to
find refuge: he could not stick to
the trail. Thick bush, dank and
heavy from recent rains, was on
either side, fugitive streaks of pale
light from above painting it eerily.
Garth plunged into the matted
growth, dropped to hands and
knees and wormed forward away
from the trail. Earth-jarring foot-
beats sounded close. With frantic
haste he wrenched through the
scratching tendrils and came to a
miniature clearing.
H E saw the tilted shape of a
rotted tree-stump, its roofs
half washed away and exposing a
narrow crevice between them. Gasp,
ing, the nude, foot-high figure
tumbled down into it, and lay there,
trying to hush his labored breath-
ing.
He was a mere twenty feet from
the trail ; and though to him the
bush was a jungle, to his pursuer
it was only chest-high. A towering
shadow moved along the trail. The
thud of heavy footbeats came more
slowly to the listening midget
Hagendorff was searching, puzzled
by the vague shadows, for where
Garth had left the path.
Silence fell.
Garth's heart was pounding like
a trip-hammer. He held himself
alert, ready, if need be, to struggle
up from the moist crevice and dart
on further into the bush. He could
not see the giant, but could picture
his huge, sullen face all too clearly.,
Still no sound came. Risking all,
he gripped a root and hauled him-
self up slightly. Then he peered
around the stump.
Hagendorfi was standing in the
thick of the bush. He was not ten
feet away, striving in the gloom
to discern the other’s tell-tale tracks.
Garth drew his head back, hardly
daring to breathe. Shivering, hit
naked body miserably cold, he
waited, pressed down in the soggy
earth. His betraying tracks were
there; the shadows alone befriended
him.
The silence was drawn so fine
that the faint cheep of a night-
bird sounded startlingly loud. But
then came thunder that sent the
bird winging away in fright, and
the night and the forest echoed
with the roar of a wrathful, impa-
tient human voice.
"You hear me, wherever you are I
And hear this: I leave you now,
but in ten minutes I have youl
You little fool — you think you ctn
THE MIDGET PROM THE ISLAND 22S
at fm? It is only by minute*
you delay me I”
Snarling a curse, the treacherous
giant turned and crashed through
the bush and took his huge form
striding back towards the cabin.
G ARTH was thinking o( many
thingB as he scrambled back
wearily from his refuge to the trail.
He was curaing the unwanted pub-
licity which prying reporters had
given his work in Detroit, and
which had led him to lease the
lonely island and build a laboratory
in the wilderness. Had it not been
for that publicity, he would never
hive needed an assistant, and the
vision of fame would never have
f«in to delude Hagendorff and turn
Ids thoughts towards murder.
His position seemed a horrible
delirium from which he must pres-
ently awake. Naked, dwarfed by
«wh ordinary forest weed, unarmed,
■id trembling from the wind-sharp-
ened night, he hardly knew which
way to turn. His body was blotched
with blood and mud, and under it
the ragged gashes made by glass
end bush stung painfully ; he was
hungry and stiff and tired and
miserable. He remembered Hagen-
dorff's threat of capturing him in
ten minutes, and forced a smile to
Us face.
“Looks kind of bad,” he mut-
tered, using his voice in an attempt
to dispel some of the lonely grip
of the night, “but well keep mov-
ing, anyway 1 He's coming back
soon. Let’s see : I’d better make for
the stream. It’ll be hard for him to
follow my tracks through that. And
then. . . .”
Then — what? The island was
mull. He realized he could not
stand many hours of exposure. In-
evitably — But he turned his mind
from the future and its seeming
hopelessness, and concentrated on
the immediate need, which was to
hide himself. Forcing the pace,
he struck off on a shambling trot
down the dim trail, on into the
'deepening, sinister shadows towards
the island’s lone stream.
O BSTACLES that normally ho
would not have noticed made
his path tortuous. His great weight
sank his feet anlde-high in the
moist, uneven ground. Time and
time again he stumbled over some
imbedded rock that, potato-slsed,
was like a boulder to him. Time
and time again he fell, and when
he rose his legs were plastered
with soggy earth that did not dry;
and the damp, fallen leaves and
twigs he pitched into clung to his
coating of mud. Each broken limb
and branch, dropped from the whis-
pering gloom of the trees above,
drained the energy from his tiring
muscles. Soon he was conscious
of a vague numbness creeping over
him, a deceptive, drowsy warmth
into which he longed to sink, but
which he drove back by working
his arms and legB a* vigorously as
he could.
On he went, with teeth clenched
and eyes fixed on the half-seen trail
ahead — a fantastic, tiny creature
hunted like a wild animal by a
giant of his own kind I
Presently, through the shroud of
darkness traced by ghostly slivers
of starlight, came the sound of
trickling water. The trail ros^
dipped down ; and through that
hollow crawled the stream, winding
from a hidden spring to the en-
compassing river below. Garth was
winded when he came to it; to
his eyes it seemed a small river.
His legs were so numb they hardly
felt the cold bite of the water that
lapped aroUnd them.
Some furry water animal leaped
away as Garth trudged upstream;
alarmed by the strange midnight
visitant and the self-encouraging
mutterings of a shrill human
voice. . . .
224
ASTOUNDING STORIES
H E had waded what, seemed to
him a weary distance — in
reality only a few hundred yards
— through the winding, icy creek,
when suddenly he halted and stood
stock-still. Listening, he heard the
ordinary sounds of the wind
through the fir-spires, and the slow
trickle of water ; heard the beating
of his own heart. Nothing else. And
yet. . He took another step.
Then he swung quickly around
and peered back, senses alert. There
was no mistaking the sound that
had come again. It was the crunch
of heavy feet, thudding at even in-
tervals on damp earth. They were
Hagendor&’s ; and he was armed
with light I
A long beam of white speared
through the tangle of bush and tree
trunks far below. It came slanting
down from above, prying for the
story recorded by miniature foot-
prints in the ground. By its dis-
tance from him. Garth could tell
Hagendorff had come to where his
trail led into the stream. The ray
held steady for minutes. Again it
prowled nervously around, hunting
for tell-tale signs, sweeping in wid-
ening circles. Then, it was punc-
tuated by the crunch of a boot.
The giant was following up-
stream 1
With the flashlight, he might even
be able to trace the prints in the
bed of the creek. Stooping, Garth
crept ahead, as silently as he could,
though the stir of water at his feet
seemed terribly loud. There were
keen ears behind, craned for sounds
like that. He knew he would have
to hide again— quickly — and at that
moment he saw a place.
A cleft in the bank to his right
held a small hole, dimly limned
by a wisp of starlight. On hands
and feet the midget scrambled cat-
like to it. It slanted down and in-
wards, only inches wide, so that the
earth was close to his body when
he slid feet-first inside. But it was
warm and dry, for it was shielded
by a ledge from rain, and with the
warmth the hunted manikin’s spir-
its rose somewhat. The ray of light,
which he could see sweeping back
and forth downstream, was still fol-
lowing slowly, as if Hagendorff
were having trouble making out the
water-covered trail. Garth breathed
easier, cuddled down — and then, for
some unaccountable reason, he felt
uneasy.
H E had not noticed it at first,
but now his noBtrils were
filled with a queer, musky odor that
electrified his nerves and tensed his
muscles. He felt the short hairs on
his neck rise; felt his lips tighten
and draw back over clenched teeth.
Some long-buried instinct was
warning him of danger — and sud->
denly he sprang from the hole and
swung around.
From it, a killer came snaking
out, its bared fangs thirsty- for his
life blood I
Arching and swaying its lithe-
muscled body, it slid forward in its
graceful, savage way — a weasel, the
deadliest pound-for-pound killer
that prowls the forest. It was as
long as the naked human who faced
it was tall. Unwittingly, he had
chosen its hole as a refuge.
Retreat would have been impos-
sible, but Garth for some reason
did not even think of it. A strange
new sensation poured through his
tense body, a sensation akin to fierce
joy. Gone was his tiredness; his
teeth too were bared, matching the
wicked fangs before him. Two pri-
mal creatures they were, tooth to
tooth and claw to claw, the man as
naked and intoxicate*! with the
blood lust as the ten 'pounds of
bone and sinew that now darted
suddenly for his throat.
With the lightning quickness that
had come to him with small sise,
Garth stepped aside. And as the
weasel’s head streaked by he called
THE MIDGET FROM THE ISLAND
on man’s distinctive weapon, and
put every ounce of his weight be-
hind a right arm swing that landed
square on a cold black nose and
doubled the weasel back in mid-air.
Stunned, it writhed for a second
on the slippery bank ; and then
again it was up, mad with pain now
and swaying slightly as it gathered
for a second leap against this crea-
ture that fought so strangely.
B UT in the momentary respite
Garth had reasoned out his
best chance. He did not try to fight
off the second dart with his fists,
but went boldly in. Ducking
through the needle claws with head
lowered, his tiny hands streaked in
on the furry throat. He found it,
and his fingers thumbed into the
wind-pipe; but not before the
weasel smelled the blood its claws
had drawn and went utterly berserk.
For a moment there was a wild flur-
ry of furry, tearing legs and a
blood-streaked white body between
them, trying desperately to evade
their slicing strokes. They pitched
down the bank together, animal
■nd man struggling silently to the
-.death; and when they jarred to a
I stop in the water below. Garth’s
! strategy was achieved.
He was uppermost; his grip was
steel around the throbbing throat,
and the hundred and eighty pound
weight of his body was holding the
legs powerless. Not an inch from
his face the weasel’s fangs clashed
frantically together. Garth main-
tained his clutch, squeezing with
every bit of his mighty strength.
The animal shuddered ; then writhed
in the death convulsions; at last
lay still.
Panting, his mind a welter of
primate emotions roused by the kill,
the man shook it a last time, jumped
to his feet and glared around — to
see the beam of a flashlight only a
dozen yards away. His more deadly
foe, the human foe, was upon him.
Z25
Perhaps the sounds of the fight had
reached his ears.
Garth lost not a moment. Quickly
he 6lung the weasel’s body back into
the hole and jammed himself down
after it.
H AGENDORFF approached
slowly, mumbling and cursing
to himself in sullen ill-humor.
Things were not going as he had
expected them to. The ' white ray
scoured the banks of the stream,
searching doggedly. Nearer he
came, and with each step the watch-
ing midget’s rapid breathing grew
tighter. The towering body was
more than shadow now. Another
ten feet and the flashlight would
find the marks of the fight.
But the titan’s patience gave out.
Closer than he had yet been to .his
quarry, he paused, and again the
thunder of bis voice broke the
night’s hush.
"Bah! This is foolish! In day-
light I find him certainly. I have
waited long; I can wait a -little
more. I need sleep. To-morrow, it
will be different!"
He swung away from the stream,
and in a few minutes the rip and
crash of his progress through the
bush had died. In the silence, Garth
Howard considered his situation.
He faced it squarely, as was his
custom. He did not brood over the
treachery of his assistant, or of how
unfairly and suddenly it had
plunged him into peril and robbed
him of his normal body. He accept-
ed his position and searched for
possible angles of escape. There
were not many hours left in which
to make a decisive move. The island
was small, and, as Hagendorff had
said, discovery would be inevitable
in daytime.
Garth thought of the machine,
and of the giant sleeping. A des-
perate plan came to him, and his
jaws set decisively. “I’ll do itl n
he exclaimed aloud.
226
ASTOUNDING STORIES
The lever which controlled both
increase and decrease could be
-worked from inside the chamber if
he rigged up a system of turning
it with a wire or rope. If he pulled
it to the increase only part way,
he would, he knew, have sufficient
power over his muscles to pull it
back off, or slide again from the
chamber, as he had done before.
Whether or not he could do this
depended on Hagendorff's being
asleep. Possibly he cpuld be locked
In the llvin* room, if he were
there. Or tied. The increase, even
at half speed, would only take
about forty seconds. Once back to
his size there would be a fight with-
out odds. Garth thought grimly.
I T was a big risk, end there wee
probably only a small chance of
eucceeding, but it meant getting
back to six feet, back to a normal
world, back to equal terms. That
was the magnet which drew him
presently toward the cabin labora-
tory.
He went slowly, to allow Hagen-
dorff plenty of time to fall soundly
asleep. The giant, as he had said,
needed sleep— needed it badly — for,
like Garth Howard, he had done
without it for forty-eight hours un-
der the excitement of imminent
success in their work. Garth con-
sidered that his move would be
totally unexpected, being made
right into the other's territory.
There was a chance.
And so, cold and weariness ban-
ished by thoughts of the goal ahead,
he prowled back along the trail
like any small creature of the forest.
It was half an hour later when
he came in sight of the cabin. His
heart drummed excitedly as he
Stood in the shadows surveying it.
He wondered if Hagendorff was
still awake; if he was, perhaps wait-
ing for him. Certainly he not
seem to be; the cabin was dark
and silent, and the only door was
tightly closed. Still — it might be
wiser to retreat while still free. . . .
"No, by heaven I” Garth Howard
exclaimed in his thoughts. “I’m go-
ing through with it I” Stooping
slightly, he left the shadows and
ran boldly into the^ starlight.
He half expected to hear a scuffle
of feet and see the giant come leap-
ing out at him; but nothing broke
the silence. He made his careful
way along the side of the cabin to
the place where a trough for waste
liquids led through a small hole at
the level of the ■ floor, and with
great care wormed through,
i
A S he started to cautiously re-
connoiter, hejwas suddenly ar-
rested in his trackis. He had caught
the sound of deep,' rhythmic breath-
ing. Hagendorff was asleep, not in
the adjoining living room — but in
the laboratory!
For a moment, Garth did not
know what to do. Caution urged
him to retreat; but that would not
get him back to his size.. On tip-
toe, he explored around. The boards
squeaked beneath his great weight,
but the nearby breathing beyond
continued in regular rhythm.
His eyes were toned to the dark-
ness of the laboratory; he saw the
chamber of his atom-compacting ma-
chine, its outer sides ghostly in the
faint, reflected starlight, and stared
at it with a pang of fierce longing.
So near, it was — so very neart Hold-
ing the stolen size of his body;
holding all that whs vital to him;
holding life itBelf — it rested there
silently, within reach of a few Bteps
and a quick climb up one of the
table legs. So he thought, his brain
whirling with mingled emotions, his
tiny body shivering and aching with
cold and its many hurts. The ma-
chine was near— but a barrier
blocked the way. :
Hagendorff’s bulk lay outstretched
on a side table, black in the shad-
ows, and from him came the level
THE MIDGET FROM THE, ISLAND
227
breathing of a sound sleeper, cli-
maxed now and again by a rumbling
snore. He was taking no chances;
his presence there seemed to de-
stroy any hope of the midget’s re-
gaining normal size. But Garth was
desperate, and for a minute or so
he considered.
F ORTY seconds, the increase
would take, at half speed. It
might be that long before the giant
would waken thoroughly and see
wbat was happening. He, Garth,
might start the process, and, when
he saw the huge figure stirring and
waking from the noise of the dy-
namo, switch off the ray and get out.
No matter how short a time it took
Hagendorff to throw off the foggi-
ness of his sleep, he would be some-
what increased in size, and the odds
of combat would not be so great.
It was a terrible risk. Did he
dare take it? He thought of the
forest, of the raw night, of what
waB threatened in the morning. . . .
Yes I
Silently, the manikin clasped the
nearest table leg, shinnied up and
hauled himself over the top. As he
got there his heart leaped. A sharp
thumping had come from behind.
He dropped to his knees and glanced
round; but he immediately rose
again, reassured. It was only the
rabbits in their cage, disturbed by
the strange figure on the table. He
thanked God that they— and his
tarantulas and other insects— could
make no alarming noises.
Garth found a long strand of
wire. The panel’s control lever,
swung to the left, controlled in-
crease; to the right, decrease.
Garth’s plan was to wind the mid-
dle of the wire around it, relay
each end around the two supporting
poets of the switchboard, and thus
have both ends of the wire in his
hands when he stood inside the
chamber. One end of the wire would
enable him to pull the lever over
for increase, and the other to pull
it back to neutral when the increase
was completed, or when Hagen-
dorff arose.
Quickly he started to arrange the
wire. Then suddenly his hands
dropped and he stared dismayed at
the control panel.
The power switch had been re-
moved I
I T was Hagendorff's work, of
course. He had guarded every
angle. Without that Bwitch, the
mechanism was lifeless and literally
powerless. It worked on a delicate-
ly adjusted and enclosed rheostat;
there was nothing that could be
substituted for it. It would take
hours to improvise one in the heart
of the apparatus.
The switch, Garth reflected bit-
terly, was probably concealed some-
where about the giant’s body.
He considered the possibility of
tying him. He knew where there
was a coil of light, pliable wire on
the floor; he might be able to loop
it over the giant's hands and legs
while he slept, tie him securely,
and then go through his pockets' for
the switch. Another hazard I But
there was nothing else to do.
Garth lowered himself over the
table’s edge and slid quietly down
the leg. He glanced at the sleeping
man, then over across the room to
where, beneath another table, the
wire was — and his nerves jumped at
what he saw there.
From the darkness under the
table two spots of greenish fire,
close to the floor, held steadily on
him.
As he stared, they vanished, to
reappear more to the right. With
the movement, he glimpsed the out-
line of a lithe, crouching aniidal,
and knew it to be the cat he and
Hagendorff had experimented on
earlier that night. It was stalking
him in the deliberate manner of its
kind!
226
ASTOUNDING STORIES
I T came edging around, ao as to
leap on h™ from the side. He
knew that he represented fair prey
to it; that if he tried to run, it
would pounce on him from behind.
Wearily he tensed his miniature
body, standing poised on the balls
of his feet and never dropping his
eyes for a moment. He could not
repress a grim smile at the ludi-
crousness of being attacked by an
ordinary house-cat, even though it
was tiger-siscd to him. Though his
victory over the Weasel, a far dead-
lier fighter, made him confident he
could dispatch it, there was another
aspect to the approaching struggle.
It would have to be fought in al-
ienee. Not four feet away, Hagens
dorff slept. There {ay the over-
whelming danger.
Even as these things flashed
through his brain, the cat steadily
inched nearer on its padded pawy.
Ghostly starlight framed it now;
Garth could see the eager, quiver-
ing muscles, the long tail, flat be-
hind, twitching slightly, the rigid,
unstirring head and the slowly con-
tracting paws. The terrible suspense
of its stalking scraped hia nerves.
There would be a long pause, then
an almost imperceptible hunching
forward, with the tail ever twitch-
ing; then the same thing again,
and over again. It became unbear-
able. Garth deliberately invited the
attack.
He pretended to turn and run,
hia back towards it. At once he
sensed its tensing body, its bunch-
ing muscles— then knew that it had
sprung.
Whirling, he had a fleeting im-
pression of a supple body in mid-
air, of bristling claws and bared,
needlepoint fangs. But he was
ready. The weasel had taught him
his best weapon, the great weight
of his body. He streaked in be-
neath the wide-spread paws, shot
his hands into the fur of the throat
and threw himself against the shock
of the animal’s suddenly arrested
leap.
There was no standing his
weight Over the cat went, its back
thudding into the floor, its claws
held powerless by the hundred end
eighty pounds of hard flesh , that
straddled it /
T HE fall had made little noise;
but, as Garth tightened the grip
of hia fingers and bored inward, a
dull, steady thumping began to
sound. It was the cat’s tail, pound-
ing on the floor I
Desperately he tried to hook a
leg over it, but could not reach far
enough. It beat like a tom-tom.
From above, there came the sound
of a huge frame stirring, and the
rumble of a sleepy grunt.
In a moment, the titan would be
thoroughly awake.
By the drumming tail alone.
Garth realized, his chance of rw
gaining full size was sent glimmaft
ing. There was nothing but retreat,
now, and a hasty one, if h» valued
life. Another noise came from the
waking Hagendorff. He was sitting
up, 6taring around. Garth jumped to
his feet, threw the cat's twitching
body beneath the table, and dodged
at full speed for the hole whereby
be had entered.
Like a mouse he wriggled
through, leaped to the ground,
scrambled up and made for the
forest. He ran with all the speed
at his command, and was almost
surprised when be reached the black
fringe of the forest in safety. In
the protecting gloom, he dared to
pause and look back.
Hagendorff was not pursuing him.
From the sound, he was merely
boarding ehut the drain hole, to
prevent another entrance in that
way; then, afterwards, the windows.
Garth was puzzled. "I don't un-
derstand it,” he said aloud. “Why
is he so sure he can get me in the
morning? Isn’t he afraid I'll leave
THE MIDGET FROM THE ISLAND
229
the island? Why I’ve got to try
to get away, now. It would be
death to be here after the dawn I"
He stood there making his plans.
They had a rowboat below, pow-
ered with an outboard motor. Even
in his present size, he might pos-
libly run it, if he could get it
started. He would strike down-river
for Detroit, and when the gas gave
out, the current would carry him
on. Some river boat might pick
him up and carry him to friends in
the city. His grotesquely dwarfed
body would prove his story, and
they would bring him back and end
Higendorff’s mad dream of fame,
snd help him to regain his normal
size. He could superintend the con-
struction of another machine if
the present one was wrecked.
When he started down the trail
to the river, he seemed to be walk-
ing through a haze. He felt curi-
ously light-headed, and his body
was completely numb. The long
exposure was telling on him,
and there was much more of it to
come. He wondered if he could
hold out until he reached the main-
land.
But his mind cleared of the daze
the cold and near-exhaustion had
brought it to when at last he came
to the beach and realized that again
Hagendorff had anticipated him.
The rowboat was gone! No wonder
the giant could afford to wait until
daylight.
G ARTH floundered down to the
beach and ran to where the
craft usually lay. There was only
a groove in the rough, pebbly sur-
face, a groove left by the boat’s
keel. He followed it up the bank,
and twenty yards in found the
dinghy chained and locked firmly
to a large tree.
The midget's face grew suddenly
very haggard as he stood there, star-
ing at what looked like his death
sentence. He should have known
Hagendorff would secure the boat,
he told himself bitterly. It was a
cruel blow, and sheer misery of
mind and body gripped him as he
turned and peered through the
darkness of wind-whipped water and
sky toward a horizon that was al-
ready lightening. Down-river lay
Detroit, a friendly, everyday world.
It was not far in miles, but it
seemed lost to him forever. . . .
Garth took his eyes from that
prospect with a wry twist to his
mouth. It chanced that they fell
on the painter of the rowboat.
It was a stout Manila cord, some
twenty feet in length, and tied
tightly to a ring in the bow of the
boat. He looked at it dully for a
full minute before the idea came to
him. Then suddenly the lethargy
bred of hopelessness left him. Garth
remembered a pocket knife he had
left in the boat the day before.
He climbed over the side and began
to fumble about in the darkness.
First he came upon a torn hand-
kerchief which he hastily tied about
his loins. Further probing disclosed
the knife wedged under a seat in
the boat. When he had finally ex-
tricated it, he threw the knife over
the side and climbed out.
After some minutes of frantic
cutting and hacking he severed the
rope, and, quickly taking up one of
the ends, ran with it further along
the bank.
There was still a way of getting
off the island. A cold and risky
way, but better than waiting miser-
ably for capture. On the bank was
a pile of sawn logs, intended for
firewood; and a strong rope was in
his hands. Much indeed could be
done now.
T HE making of his raft proved
a herculean task, a racking and
almost impossible one for a irihn
limited by doll-sized hands and a
foot-high body. First the logs had
to be rolled to the water’s edge, six
236 ■; ASTOUNDING STORIES
of them. Each waa aa thick aa he and the gloomy maaa of the inland
waa tall, and this first part of his
task took him a precious half hour,
every minute of which brought
nearer the dawn. Ripples like or-
dinary waves washed up the strug-
gling manikin and left him gasp-
ing as he stood braced in the cold
water and tugged one log after
another out and wound the rope
under ana over it. The raft had to
be built in watn; he would never
have been able tp drag the whole
thing off the beafch.
When at last he wearily tied the
rope end to the last log, and stuck
his knife handy in it, the clouds
on the horizon were flushed by the
coming sun. But hi*. means of es-
cape was completed; and hanging
on the end, he shoved the raft out
into the river. Right then he al-
most lost his life. For when his feet
left the sloping bottom, his great
weight, out of all proportion to the
size of his body, pulled him under,
and it was only by virtue of a des-
perate clutch on the raft that he
scaped drowning. Thrashing furi-
ously, he struggled up from the
water, and lay, totally blown, on the
logs. It was then he first realized
that his chance of life was no
stronger than the rope which held
.them together. For swimming was
out of the question, and one or two
logs would never support his hun-
dred and eighty pounds.
The end which he lay on was
well under water, and the wavs
splashed up between the bobbing
logs. The current he was headed
for swept down fifty yards off-
shore, which was a sixth of a mile
to the little legs now thrust out
behind and making a rhythmic
flutter.
He was off the island 1 Freedom
and life were near! Though his
teeth were chattering, his fingers
crushed by the jarring logs, and hia
body utterly wretched, he grinned
with joy as the stretch between him
slowly widened.
T HEN came the sun. The skits
faded from gray into a deli-
cate, cloud-flecked blue; alowly the
air warmed, and the surface of the
water seemed to calm under it
Though the sun was good on his
body, Garth realized night wit
more friendly to him, for in tht
growing light his craft was all toe
conspicuous to the giant who would
presently be following his tracks
down to the beach. He chided him.
self for not' having thought of
camouflaging the raft with leafy
branches. -Doggedly, he forced it
out
When at last he felt the pull of
the current he ceased his weary
kicking and glanced up into ths
swiftly advancing dawn. There wm
a bird soaring through the keen
air up there, gliding in easy circles
with almost motionless wings.
Garth gazed at it somewhat wist-
fully, envying its freedom and
power of flight And then he shut
his eyes. He was very tired. . . .
He must have dozed off for ■
moment, for he awoke to find him-
self slipping off. With a suddaa
jerk he regained his position— and
that was what saved his life at that
moment For without warning,
while he was nodding, plumed
death struck from the skies.
It dropped like a plummet, as wm
its manner. It had been circling
above and judging its swoop, and
by rights its curved talons should
have arched deep into the un-
guarded back of the naked figure oa
the raft. But at the last second ths
figure moved aside — to late for ths
hawk to alter its swoop.
The raft rocked under the im-
pact; for a moment Garth Howard,
dazed by the sudden attack, did not
know what had happened. Huge,
acratching wings were thrashing
about him; his left arm stung from
THE MIDGET FROM THE ISLAND
231
where a claw had raked it; and he
wrenched around to stare into two
wicked slits of eyes behind a fierce,
rounded beak that jabbed at him.
E VIDENTLY he represented
easy prey to the hawk, for it
did not soar away, but instead came
at him again in a flurry of beating
wings and stabbing beak, a vicious,
feathered fighter from above.
Caught off guard by the suddenness
and savagery of the onslaught,
Garth retreated stumblingly, for-
getting his weight and the size of
the raft and defending himself with
hie arms as best he could against
the rushes of the hawk. The raft
tilted perilously; water washed
around his legs and he slipped and
went under.
He felt his fingers slipping inex-
orably over the edge of the log he
bad gripped; his legs threshed up
a welter of foam, but he kept going
down. Panic clutched him; his
weight would sink him like a stone.
But suddenly his clutching hand
was gripped by steel-like talons,
and through the water he caught
a glimpse of the hawk straining
backwards with mighty sweeps of
its wings in an -effort to lift him
bodily into the air.
His size had deceived it. It could
not hoist him, but did manage to
drag his head and chest out of the
water. That was enough. With an
effort, Garth scrambled onto the raft.
The hawk, probably greatly sur-
prised by its failure to soar away
with such tiny prey, tore into him
again, raking his body painfully.
Hardly knowing what he did, Garth
grabbed out as it hovered over
him and succeeded in wrapping his
fingers around one of its legs. Then,
bracing himself as best he could,
and Ignoring the scratching wings
and piercing beak, he gave the leg
a sharp twist and heard the crack
of breaking bone.
He was only half-conscious of th§
hawk’s shrill scream of pain, of its
swift retreat into the blue, with
the broken leg dangling grotesque-
ly. For only a moment he was
aware that he had driven it off ; then
the pain of his wounds and his ut-
ter exhaustion swept up over him,
and he flopped down on the raft
in a dead faint. . . .
F OR a long time Garth was dim-
ly aware of familiar noises.
At first they were faint and scarce-
ly perceptible ; but, as his senses
slowly began to return, disturbing
thoughts came to him. He felt that
he was on his back, and confined,
and when he twisted, to turn over,
he found he could not. He opened
his eyes and blinked.
He was back in the laboratory —
lying bound, hand and foot, on the
long table.
The giant Hagendorff appeared
over him, and his deep voice
rumbled :
“Badly scarred and bruised, my
little friend I Cats you have fought,
and birds, and each has left its
mark. It was useless to run away
last night — not?”
Garth was suddenly too full of a
weary resignation to even think of
speaking. Remonstrance, he knew,
would avail him nothing. The long
struggle for freedom and life was
over, and he had lost.
The assistant was apparently in
good humor. He went on:
“Really, it is too bad, after that
magnificent fight of yours I A hawk
—was it not? I was following your
tracks, and had just reached the
beach when I see a great fuss on
the water. A raft, I seel A bird, at-
tacking .something on it) A little
white figure, struggling! Well, it
is that easy. I unlock the boat and
go to the raft and find my elusive
friend there, unconscious. So I
bring him back here. He has for-
gotten: we have an experiment to
complete.”
232
ASTOUNDING STORIES
There wee a fire of exultation in
the man’a eyeeas they glared down
at the midget who lay on the lab-
oratory table, just a few feet away
from the chamber of the machine.
He reached out and ran a thick
finger over his victim’s body.
“You do not deserve this," he
said. “I should kill you outright-
hut, graciously, I give you death in
the machine. Yours will be the first
human body to be reduced to an
inch; maybe less. This is your
martyrdom ; for this, your name will
live, along with mine, for having
perfected the procebf.’’
I
G arth Howard eaw that the
window was boarded tightly
shut. Then Hagendorff caught his
eyes as, with a grin, he plunged a
hand into a pocket and -drew forth
the missing panel switch. He dan-
gled it In front of Garth.
“What you would have given for
this last night, eh? With your wire
to mill the lever so carefully ar-
ranged! Ach, It was too bad!” He
shrugged, then picked up a screw-
driver and turned to fix the switch
on the control panel.
The moment his back was turned,
Oarth gazed frantically around. The
fantastic fate he had striven to des-
perately to stave off was Very close
now. What could he
Some tools lay on the table, just
out of his reach, among them a pair
of cutting pliers. He stared at the
pliers— an overgrown tool, half as
long as .his own body. The twist
of Hagendorffs wrist driving home
the first screw brought a cold Chill
over him. The pliers I It was a
chancel
He twisted a little, and keeping
his eyes on the giant’s back, he
inched toward -them. His hands,
tied at the wrists behind him,
clutched for them; found them. The
jiawa were open, and there were two
! sharp cutting edges. He could not
[hope to manipulate the whole im-
plement with his bound but
he located one edge, painfully
brought the rope to it and sawed
rapidly.
The steel sliced his flesh, and he
felt the warm stickiness of blood.
But he disregarded this and kept
on. Hagendorff was still working,
all unconscious — but the last screw
was going in. And then soma
strands of the rope snapped, and
it loosened.
The next second, Garth had
wrenched his hands free.
Then, throwing caution to the
winds, he sat up, grabbed the great
tool and sliced the rope at his feet.
At that moment, Hagendorff fin-
ished his job and turned around.
T HEIR eyes met. For a breath-
less instant nothing happened,
save that the smile on the titan’s
face changed to surprise and than
fury. Garth scrambled to his feet.
The movement brought a bellow of
rage, and the manikin saw two
enormous hands converging on him
in a sweep that bade fair to crush
every bone in his dwarfed body.
Leaping backwards instinctively,
he hurled the pliers at the giant’s
head.
They were well aimed, and he saw
them strike the temple, stopping the
man in his tracks. He thundered,
more from anger than pain. His
heart pounding wildly. Garth ran
back to a position behind a rack of
test tubes. It was from there that
he saw Hagendorff, cursing crazily,
grab up a machinist’s hammer and
advance upon him.
All sanity had apparently left
the giant. His great face was flushed
and distorted, and a growing welt
showed where the pliers had clipped
him. Garth suddenly knew that if
he were captured again, death
would not come in the chamber,
but from those powerful hands, br
the weapon they clutched.
The hammer swung hack lor a
THE IIIDOET PROM THE ISLAND
233
crushing blow. But in the instant it
hung poised. Garth lifted a half-
filled test tube from the rack be-
fore him and swished its contents
forward.
The tube held sulphuric acid, and
it sprayed over Hagendorff's face.
The hammer pitched from his hand ;
he clutched at his eyes and stum-
bled back, shrieking in agony.
Garth at once ran to the e0£ s of
the table, swung himself over and
slid down the leg to the floor. The
laboratory door was open and he
dashed for it. But, whether or not
Hagendorff could aee his frantic
retreat, he anticipated it, and with
a reeling plunge he got there first.
Tumbling, he found the key in the
bole and turned it. The room was
sealed.
B eginning then, the blind
Hagendorff was a man berserk.
With a sobbing roar of pain and
fury, he lashed round for the foot-
ligh figure that dodged and wheeled
and zig-sagged to keep from hia
threshing arms and his bands. A
table crashed over, and a flood of
chemicals mined and boiled on the
floor; then another, as the giant
blundered blindly into it. The
cages of animals split open, and
guinea pigs, rabbits and insects
ceuttled from their prisons, fleeing
to the corners from the wild
plunges of the raging German.
Garth went reeling from a glanc-
ing blow, and fell against an over-
tamed stool under a far table where
ha could hardly breathe for the
■ixed odors of spilt chemicals. By
come sixth sense, Hagendorff
Msmsd to locate him, for his huge
body turned and came directly for
kkn.
But Garth did not wait. Seizing
the stool he whirled it so that it
did smash into the giant’s legs.
The man pitched over with a grunt,
•biking the floor so hard that the
planks shivered.
He did not rise. He lay there, in
a wreckage of glass and splintered
wood and stinking chemicals, moan-
ing slightly.
Garth wasted no time, but
gripped a leg of the laboratory
table, shinned to the top and with
frantic speed fixed his strand of
wire onto the control lever and
round the supporting posts of the
instrument panel. Then he jumped
for the dynamo Bwitch, caught the
handle and jerked it down.
The drone of a generator surged
through the room. Then the midget
was standing in the chamber, both
ends of the wire in his hands; and
his heart was thudding madly as
he pulled one of them.
It held. Over came the lever,
halfway. The brilliant stream of the
ray poured down. Dimly the man-
ikin glimpsed the chamber’s walls
sinking down, the wreckage-strewn
room outside diminishing to normal
size. Fiery pain throbbed through
him, but it was lost in the exulta-
tion that filled his mind as the sec-
onds went by. He grew to two feet,
two and a half— three.
B UT beyond that he was not to
go. The swaying shape of
Hagendorff loomed outside the
cube. Aroused by the drone of the
generator and what it signified, the
giant had floundered up from the
floor and now came clutching
blindly for him.
Garth knew he would have to
leave the chamber at once ; so,
struggling for command of his mus-
cles through the paralysis that
numbed them, he tensed his hold
on the other wire and pulled it a
little. The control lever swung back
to neutral; the ray faded and Garth
jumped out. He was only a few
feet away from the huge convulsed
face as the German roared:
“By God, you'll never get back
on this machine !”
His purpose was plain; his grop-
234
ASTOUNDING STORIES
ing hand had already found the
control lever. To prevent his rip-
ping it out, Garth plunged head
first into Hagendorff’s stomach, and
they both went down in a flurry
of arms and legs. Garth, scrambling
to get loose, was conscious of the
ray pouring down again in the
chamber above. Th^ lever had not
been wrenched out, put jerked over,
setting the process of increase on.
The .next few minutes were a
chaos. Now that Howard was three
feet tall he was without some of the
advantages of his forme; smallness
and compactness, and his utmost ef-
forts failed to free him from the
death clutch of the pain-maddened
giant. Over and over they rolled on
the floor, Garth trying only to break
free, and the other relentlessly hold-
ing on and dragging him over to
the chamber again.
It was a losing fight for the di-
minutive one, weakened as he was
by his exposure and the fierce fights
he had had. Little by little^ squirm-
ing and resisting with all his re-
maining strength, he was brought
near — to see the German, at last,
pull half the reducing apparatus
with a crash to the floor.
The ray in the chamber faded
off. The machine was silenced for-
ever, so that Garth could never
hope to regain his full size in
this one.
W ITH the realization of this,
most of his spirit went,
while the savage giant, successful
in smashing the machinery, now
turned and devoted himself exclu-
sively to his victim.
“Now; for you I” he roared in
frightening triumph, clutching the
smaller man’s neck with his great
hands and bearing him to the floor.
Against those fingers gouged into
his. windpipe like a vise of steel,
Garth could do nothing. Fc&ly he
gagged, and feebly he clawed at the
pitiless hands — and futilely.
It was the end, he told himself.
He had come close, but closeness
did not count. His eyes bulged, and
a shroud of black began to obscure
his vision.
And then, suddenly, over the
giant’s flexed arms, he glimpsed,
coming from the chamber on the
table, something that chilled the
blood in his veins with horror.
It was huge and utterly loath-
some. Long, hairy legs folded out,
and following them came a furry,
bloated body at least five feet thick.
Many-faceted eyes fixed themselves
coldly on the men- on the floor. In
one hideous leap the monster
soared from the table all the way
to the room’s ceiling, seeming al-
most to float as it came down. For
a moment it teetered on the floor,
not five feet from the giant who,
blind and all unconscious of it,
was throttling his diminutive victim
beneath him.
Garth for a second forgot the grip
on his throat in the horror of the
monster. He knew at once what it
was — a tarantula. It had crawled
inside the chamber when its cage
was broken, had been there even
while he had been there, and had
been swollen to its present blood-
curdling size while they were fight-
ing and the ray was on. With the
smashing of the apparatus, it was
free to come out.
I T gathered for the final spring,
its terrible legs tensing per-
ceptibly — a creature out of a night-
mare. Garth Howard tried to shriek
out a warning, but Hagendorff was
holding his throat too well. He
could only struggle weakly and nod
toward the -horror beyond ; but the
message did not get across to the
giant.
Then the tarantula sprang again.
For a moment it seemed to hover
on Hagendorff’s upturned back.
When it floated down, its ragged
legs cradled over him, and the egg-
THE MIDGET PROM THE ISLAND
235
duped body squatted on hia
back. . . •
Garth felt his frayed nerves and
tenses going. A hairy leg was touch-
ing him, chilling his flesh. Above
him, the giant was thrashing im-
potently, and he found his neck free
of the awful grip.
He wormed free. He was hardly
conscious of reaching up and un-
locking the door, and dosing it
tightly again as he stumbled forth.
Later, it seemed that it was in a
dream that he ran wildly into the
iplendid sunlight outside and down
the winding trail. It was only by a
tremendous effort that he kept his
lenses long enough to shove the
rowboat out from the beach and
hop in.
He never started the motor. All
that he had seen and suffered on
the island of horror overcame him
too soon, and he pitched down in
a limp, unconscious heap. . . .
A ND so it was, that, the next
morning, the two harbor po-
licemen found a rowboat with mys-
terious cargo floating silently down
the Detroit River. So it was that
some time later a launch with three
local officers churned, up to the soli-
tary island, and that gunshots
echoed in the gloom of a hushed
laboratory room, and a man’s white-
faced body was carried from the
cabin where he had made his one
great treacherous effort to steal an-
other’s fame.
“JAZZING UP THE UNIVERSE”
PBNTURIES of celestial history
V wheeled Across the plaster tkj of the
mw Adler planetarium at Chicago, re-
cently, at the dedication of the astro -
somlcal institution, the first of Its kind
in the Western Hemisphere.
A modern Joshua, working the levers
and switches of a complicated Instrument,
commanded a miniature sun to stand still
(a the heavens — and it did. He bettered
the feat of the Biblical prophet by stop-
ping the sun at any given point on Its
•Ait across the BkieB and then ran it
backward, its attendant planets, planetoids
uri stars scampering contrary to all rules
of the universe.
The Joshua in the person of Professor
Philip Fox, director of the planetarium on
I “made” island in Lake Michigan, de-
ed bed the instrument with wnich he
■ide the heavenly bodies cut capers, as
i projector, made in Germany at a cost
tf almost a 100,000. As nearly as it can
ha described by a layman it looks like
three immense diving helmets, capping the
mds of a tube about six feet long. Each
helmet” is studded with lenses and in-
dde are complicated and strange lights
md projectors which throw the images
ff the celestial bodies on the white plas-
ter dome above that represents the skies.
Iks wheeling motion of the universe to-
ward the west is obtained by revolving
■t Tielmets" In eccentric circles on an
iris. The whole effect makes a spectator
■ri a s If the solar svstera was revolving
■round him at a greatly accentuated speed
As a beginning lesson for the layman
who attended the opening. Professor Pox
set the machine to represent the latitude
of Chicago on Mir 10, 1930. Every one
turned his eyes to the east, where a sil-
houette of Lake Michigan, with its light-
houses and ore ships, is painted on the
plaster horizon. The dome was lighted
to represent a clear night, and, Indden-
tally, all nights are clear in a planetarium.
The machine was started and up from the
center of the Lake jumped Mars, red
against the darkness.
Professor Fox, with a flashlight that
throws the image of an arrow, pointed out
the stars as they appeared over the dome.
The coming of Mars forecast the dawn
of May 10 and in a few moments the sun
emerged from its proper latitudinal posi-
tion out of the lake and blazed its way
across the heavens and set behind the sil-
houette of the Standard Oil Building on
the west wall of the dome in leas than a
minute, denoting that the day had passed
in review. At 3:43 p. m., central stand-
ard time, the midget moon arose end
sailed its coarse and then set behind the
darkened picture of the Straus Tower.
Then Profesor Fox ran off Sunday,
Monday and Tuesday for good measure,
each time with Mars heralding the dawn
and the sun changing position as it does
in reality. Fifty centuries of astronomical
history can be run off in an hour by the
machine. The planets are visible during
the day In the planetarium as well is
night.
*Tf\**-J
H obart madison pur-
sed his lips in a whistle
of incredulous surprise as
he regarded the object that
lay in the palm of his hand. An
ordinary pebble, it seemed to be,
but a pebble in
which a strange
fire smouldered Unwitting ly th. trail
and Showed It- pits himself against
self here and «ning wob of plant-b
there through from tb
the dull sur-
face.
“Would you mind repeating what
you just said. Van?” he asked.
“You heard me the first time.
I say that that's a diamond and that
Bart hacked and hacked at the rubbery growth.
The Moon Weed
By Harl Vincent
it came from the moon.” Carl Van-
derventer glared at his friend in
resentment of his doubting tone.
“Mean to tell me you’ve been
there? To the moon?”
“Certainly not. I’m not a Jules
Verne adven-
turer. But I’m
Unwittingly the traitor of the Earth, Van telling yOU that
pits himself agsinit the inexorably tight* Stone IS 3. dlt
ening web of plant*beasts he has released mond of the
from th. moon. first
that it came
from the moon.
Weighs over a hundred carats, too.
You can have it appraised yourself
if you think I’m kidding you.”
Bart Madison laughed. “Don’t get
236
THE MOON WEED
(•re, Vu r > 'N aaid. “I’m not doubt-
jgf jour vnd. But Lord, man —
the thing’s «o incredible I It take*
■ little tinrtTfo soak in. And you say
there are more?”
“Sura. This one's the largest of
ire I’re found so far. And there’s
ether stuff, too. Wait till you see.
Fossils, beetles and things. I tell
yon, Bart, the moon was inhabited
st one time. I’ve the evidence and
I want you to be the first to see It.”
The eyes of the young scientist
ihooe with excitement as he saw
Eat hia friend was roused to in-
line interest.
“So that’s what all your experi-
■enting has been aimed at- No
wonder it cost so much.”
“Yes, and you’ve been a brick for
loan ring me. Never asked a ques-
tion, either. But Bart, it’ll all come
tack to you now. Know how much
Eat stone’s worth?”
Tliaty, I guess. But, forget
Eont the financing and all that.
Where’s this laboratory of yours?”
Madison had pushed his chair back
ham his desk and was reaching for
Us hat.
"Over in the Bamapo Mountains,
sat far from Tuxedo. 1*11 have you
Ears in two hours. Sure you can
gate the time to go out there
sew?” Vend erven ter was enthu-
siastically eager.
“Spare the time? You just try
■ad keep me from going I”
Neither of them noticed the sin-
■ter figure that lurked outside the
foot which led into the adjoining
due. They chattered excitedly as
they passed into the outer hall and
uade for the elevator.
V ANDERVENTEB’8 labora-
tory was a small domed struc-
ture set in a clearing atop the
noon tain and well hidden from the
winding road which was the only
■sans of approach. Though Bart
Madison, who had inherited hie
father's prosperous brokerage busi-
111
ness, had financed his friend’s re-
search work ever since the two left
college, this was his first visit' to
the secluded workshop, and its
wealth of equipment was revealed
to him as a complete surprise. He
had always thought of Van’s ex-
periments as something beyond his
ken; something uncanny and mys-
terious. Now he was convinced.
The most prominent single piece
of apparatus in the laboratory was
a twelve-inch reflecting telescope
which reared its latticed framework
to a slit in the dome overhead.
Paralleling its axis and secured to
the same equatorial mounting was
a shining tube of copper which bris-
tled with handwheels and levers
and was connected by heavy insu-
lated cables to an amazing array of
electrical machinery that occupied
an entire side of the single room.
“Regular young observatory
you’ve got here. Van,” Bart com-
mented when he had taken all this
in In one sweeping glance of ap-
praisal.
“Yeah, and then some. Not an-
other like it in the world.” Van
was busying himself with the con-
trols of his electrical equipment, and
a powerful motor-generator started
up with a click and a whirr as he
closed a starting switch.
Madison watched in silence as the
swift-fingered scientist fussed with
the complicated adjustments of the
apparatus and then turned to the
massive concrete pedestal on which
his telescope was mounted. At his
touch of a button the instrument
swung over on its polar axis to a
new position. The slit in the dome
was opened to the afternoon sky, re-
vealing the' lunar disc in its day-
time faintness.
“You can see it just as well in
daylight?" Bari asked as his friend
peered through the eyepiece of the
telescope and' continued his ad-
justments.
“Sure, the surface is just as bright
238
ASTOUNDING STORIES
as at night. Doesn’t seem so to your
eye, but it’s different through the
telescope. Here, take a look.”
ART squinted through the eye-
piece and saw a huge crater
with a shadowed spire in its center/
Like a shell hole in soft earth in
appeared — a great splash that had
congealed immediately it was made.
The cross-hairs of the eyepiece
were centered on a small circular
shadow near its inner rim.
“That," Van was/ saying, "is a
prominent crater near the Mare Nu-
bium. The spot under the cross-hairs
is that from which I have obtained
the diamonds — and other things.
Watch this now, Bart."
The young broker straightened
up. and saw that his friend was re-
moving the cover from a crystal
bowl that was attached to the lower
end of the copper tube that pointed
to the heavens at the same ascen-
sion and declination as the tele-
scope. The air of the room vibrated
to a strange energy when he closed
a switch that lighted a dozen
vacuum tubes in the apparatus that
lined the wall.
“You say you bring the stuff here
with a light ray?” he asked.
"No, I said with the speed of
light. This tube projects a ray of
vibrations — like directional radio,
you know — and this ray has a com-
ponent that disintegrates the object
it strikes and brings it back to us
as dissociated protons and electrons
which are reassembled in the orig-
inal form and structure in this crys-
tal bowl. Watch.” I
A misty brilliance filled the bowl’s
interior. Intangible shadowy forms
seemed to be taking shape within
a swirling maze of ethereal light
that hummed and crackled with
astounding vigor. Then, abruptly,
the apparatus was silent and the
light gone, revealing an odd object
that had taken form in the bowl.
“A starfish I” Bart gasped.
“Yeah, and fossilized." Van
handed it to him and he took it in
his fingers gingerly as if expecting
it to bum them.
T HE thing was undoubtedly a
starfish, and of light, spongy
stone. Its color was a pale blue and
the ambulacra! suckers were dearly
discernible on all five rays.
“Lord I You’re sure this is from
the moon?” Bart turned the starfish
over in his hand and gazed stupidly
at his friend.
"Certainly, you nut. Think I had
it up my sleeve? But here, watch
again, there’s something else."
The crackling, misty light again
filled the bowl.
"Suppose,” Bart ventured, “you
bring in something large — big as a
house, let’s say. What would it do
to your machine?"
“Can’t. The ray’ll only pick up
stuff that’ll enter the bowl. Look —
here’s the next arrival.”
The mysterious light died down
and the. scientist picked up the sec-
ond object with trembling fingers.
It was a knife of beautiful work-
manship, fashioned from obsidian
and obviously the. work of human
hands.
“There t Didn’t I tell you?” Van
gloated. “Guess that shows there
were living beingB on the moon.”
He made minute changes in the
adjustment of his marvelous in-
strument and Bart watched in dazed
astonishment as object after object
materialized before their eyes. There
were fragments' of strange minerals;
more fossils, /marine life, mostly;
a roughly beaten silver plate; three
diamonds, none of which was as
large as that Van bad taken to
New York, but all of considerable
value. .
“This’ll be something for the
papers, Van I” Bart Madison was
visioning the fame that was to come
to his friend.
“Yeah, all but the diamonds.”
THE MOON WEED
« A LL but the diamonds is
/i right!"
Tbeae word* were spoken by a
(trcastic voice, chill as an icicle,
that came from 'the open door,
Thejr wheeled to look into the muz-
lies of two automatic pistols that
were trained on them by a stocky
individual who faced them with a
twisted, knowing grin.
"Danny Kelly!” Bart gasped, rais-
ing his bands slowly to the level
of his shoulders. He knew the ex-
■rmy captain was a dead shot with
the service pistol, and a desperate
nan since his disgrace and forced
resignation. “What’s the big ideal"
he demanded.
“You don’t need to ask. Refused
me a loan this morning, didn’t you?
Now I’m getting it this way." Kelly
turned savagely on Van, prodding
his riba with a pistol. “Get ’em up,
pal" he snapped.
Van had been slow in raising his
hands, gaping in stupefied amaset-
mant at the intruder. Now he
reached for the ceiling without de-
\
“You’ll serve time for this,
Denny!” Bart shouted.
“Shut upl I know what I’m doing.
And back up, too — where — no, the
ether door." Kelly was forcing him
toward the door of the cellar at
tha point of one pistol as he kept
Van covered with the other.
Bart clenched his fist and brought
k down in a sudden sweeping blow
that raked Kelly’s cheek and ear
with stunning force. But the gun-
nan recovered in a flash, dropped
th* muzzle of his pistol and pulled
tba trigger. Drilled through the
thigh, Bart staggered through the
•pen door and fell the length of the
Airs into the darkness of the cel-
Isr. Kelly laughed evilly as he
detained the door and turned the
ksy.
"Hold it, you!" he snarled as he
twang on Van who had dropped his
hands and crouched for a spring.
3M
“If I drill you, it won’t be through
the leg. I’ll take those diamonds
now.”
H E pocketed one of his pistols,
and, keeping the other pressed
to the pit of Van’s stomach, went
through hiB pockets. Then he added
those on the tray by the crystal
bowl to the collection, And trans-
ferred the entire lot to his own
pocket.
“Now, you clever engineer," he
grinned, “we’ll just operate this
trick machine of yours for a while
and collect some more. Hop to it!"
He watched narrowly as Van
stretched his fingers to the controls.
“No monkey business, either," he
grated; “you’ll not change a single
adjustment. I’ve been listening to
you and I know the clock of the
telescope is keeping the ray trained
on the same spot. You just operate
the ray and nothing else. Get me?"
Van did not think it expedient
to tell him of the drift caused by
inaccuracies in the clock and per-
turbations of the moon’s motion.
He was' playing for time, trying to
plan a course of action.
“There may not be any more'
diamonds,” he offered as he tripped
the release of the ray.
“Oh, there’lf be more. Don’t try
to kid me.”
An irregular block of quarts ma-
terialized in the bowl and Kelly
toaaed it to the floor in savage dis-
gust. Then a small diamond, very
small; but he pocketed it neverthe-
less. The next object was a strange
one — a dried seed pod about six
inches in length and of brilliant
red color. The ray had shifted to
a new position on the lunar sur-
face. Another and another of the
strange legumes followed, one of
them bursting open and scattering ~
its contents, bright red like the en-
closing pod, to rattle over the floor
like tiny glass beads. Kelly snorted
his disgust
240
ASTOUNDING STORIES
"Still some sort of vegetation out
there," Van muttered. The eternal
scientist in the man could not be
downed by a mere hold-up.
“Can the chatter I” Kelly snarled
as the crystal bowl gave up another
of the useless pods and still another.
He gathered up the evidence of lun-
ar vegetation, a half dozen of the
pods, and .threw them through the
open doorway with a savage ges-
ture. “You trying\to put one over
on me?” he bellowed.
“How can I?” Van retorted
mildly. “I haven’t touched a hand-
wheel.” He was wondering vaguely
whether this lunar seed would grow
in earthly soil; what sgrt of a plant
it would produce under the new en-
vironment.
Kelly was becoming nervous now.
It seemed that little was to be
gained by hanging around this crazy
man’s laboratory. He had a sizable
fortune in rough stones already.
That big one alone, when properly
cut into smaller stones, would make
him independent. Maybe there
weren’t any more, anyway. And the
longer he stayed the greater chance
there was of getting caught. j
The advent of another of the pods
decided him. A quick blow with the
butt of his pistol stretched Van on
the floor and Kelly fled the scene.
B ART was pounding furiously
on the cellar door when Van
first took hazy note of his surround-
ings. Several uncertain minutes
passed before he was able to stagger
across the room and release his
friend.
“Where is he?” Bart demanded,
swaying on his feet and blinking
in the sudden light.
“Gone. Socked me and beat it
with the diamonds.” Van was
mopping the blood from his eyes
with a handkerchief. “Are you hit
bad?” he inquired.
“No, just a flesh wound. Hurts
likrf the devil, though. How about
yourself?" Bart limped to his side
and sighed with relief when he
examined his bleeding scalp. “Not
so bad yourself, old man. Where’s
your first aid kit?”
Van was still somewhat dazed and
merely pointed to the cabinet. “Pine
pair we turned out to be I” he
grumbled after his head had cleared
a bit under Bart’s vigorous clean-
sing of the cut on his temple. “Here
we stood, meek as a couple of lambs,
and let that guy get away with
murder.”
“Yeah, but those forty-fives ™df
the difference. Ouch!” Bart winced
as his friend poured fresh iodine
over the wound in his leg. “Hare
a heart, will you?”
They were startled into silence
by a hoarse, strangled scream that
came fronr outside the laboratory.
“Help! Help!” someone repeated
in a panicky voice — a voice which,
at once ended on a gurgled note of
despair.
“It’s Kelly!” Bart whispered.
“He's come back. Something’s hap-
pened to him.” He started for the
open door.
“Wait a minute. It may be a
trick to get us outside where be
can pop us off.”
“No, it isn't. For God’s sake;
look!” Bart had reached the door
and was pointing at the ground
with shaking forefinger.
T HE entire clearing seemed to be
alive with wriggling things—
long rubbery tentacles that crawled
along the ground, reaching curling
ends high in the air and had even
started climbing the trees at the
edge of the clearing. Blood red they
were, and partially transparent in
the light of the setting sun; grow-
ing things, attached by their thick
ends to swelling mounds of red that
seemed anchored to the ground.
Translucent stalks rose from the
mounds and sprouted huge bode
that burst and blossomed into flan-
THE MOON WEED
241
ing flowers a foot in diameter, then
withered and went to seed in a mo-
ment of time. But always the weav-
ing tendrils shot forth with light-
ning speed, reaching and feeling
their uncanny way along the ground
and over tree stumps into the
woods. One of them emerged from
a hollow stump with its slender end
coiled around the tiny body of a
chattering gray squirrel.
“The moon flowers I” Van cried.
“What do you mean — moon flow-
ers?”
“Dried seed pods. They fame
Over into the bowl, and Kelly threw
out. Now look at the damned
things. They’re alive 1”
Kelly's voice came to them once
more from behind the barrier of
rspidly growing vegetation. “Help !”
he screeched. "I’ll give back the
diamonds — anything I Only get me
away from the things I”
“Ought to let ’em get him,” Van
growled.
Bart shivered. “Too horrible. Van.
Got an az or anything?’’
“There’s a hatchet around back.
Maybe we can — ”
B UT the young broker had
scuttled around the corner of
the building and Van looked after
him anxiously. The vile red ten-
drils were reaching for the east
wall of the laboratory, and he saw
that their inner surfaces were cov-
ered with tiny suckers like those on
the arms of a devil-fish. Carnivorous
plants, undoubtedly, these awful
half-animal, half-vegetable things
whose seed had been transported
across a quarter million miles of
space. Man eaters I Deadly, and
growing with incredible speed.
Even the short-lived flowers were
fearsome, as they opened their scar-
let pansy-like faces and stared a
moment before they folded up and
shriveled into the seed cases like
those that had materialized in the
crystal bowl.
Then he noticed that the pods
were opening and spreading more
of the terrible seed. Nothing could
stop this weird growth, now. It
would cover the country like a sea
of flaming horror, overcoming and
devouring every living thing. Cold
fear clutched at Van as he realized
the enormity of the calamity that
had come to the earth.
Bart was skirting the edge of the
clearing with the hatchet in his
hand, and Van tried to call out to
him, to warn him. But his voice
caught in his throat, and instead
he ran to his assistance, circling
the spreading menace to get around
behind where Kelly was still shout-
ing. Damn Kelly anwayl This never
would have happened if he hadn’t
come on the scene!
Kelly was in the woods, wedged
into the crotch of a tree and strik-
ing wildly at thdfclutching tendrils
with his clubbed pistol. They
mashed easily and dripping red,
but were not to be deterred from
their ghastly purpose. Kelly’s time
would have indeed been short had
not his erstwhile victims come 'to
the rescue. One of the thickest of
the twining things encircled his
body and had him pinned to the
tree. His breath was coming in
gasps as its tightening coils in-
creased their pressure. His coarse
features were livid and his eyes
bulged from their sockets.
Bart hacked and hacked at the
rubbery growth until he had him
free; jerked him from his perch,
blubbering and whining like a
schoolboy. His shirt had been torn
from his breast and they saw a
great red welt where the blood had
been drawn through the pores by
those terrible suckers.
“Look out, Bart!” Van shouted.
A NOTHER of the creeping
things had come through the
underbrush and was wrapping its
coils around Bart’s ankle. Another
242
ASTOUNDING STORIES
and another wriggled through, and
aoon they were battling for their
own freedom. Kelly staggered off
Into the woods and went crashing
down the hill, leaving them to take
care of themselves as best they
might.
The stench of the viscous liquid
that oozed from the injured tendrils
was nauseous; it hqd something of
a soporific effect ;\and the two
friends found themselves fighting
the terror in a growing mist of
red that blinded and confused them.
Then, miraculously, they were free
and Van assisted Bart as they ran
through the forest. When they
reached the road, weak and out of
breath, they were just in time to
see Kelly’s roadster -vanish around
the bend.
“Yeah, he’d give back the dia-
monds — the swine I” Van muttered
vindictively. Then, shrugging his
shoulders, “Well, they won’t be
much good to him, anyway.
Wouldn't be. any good to us either,
as far as that goes.”
“What do you mean? Aren’t they
real?” Bart was raising himself
painfully into the seat of Van’s
car, his wounded leg suddenly very
much in the way.
"Sure they’re real. But don’t you
realize what this thing means — this
ungodly growth that’s started?”
“Why — why, no. You mean It’ll
keep on growing?”
“And howl Those inner stalks
drop a new batch of seeds every five
minutes or so. Presto I— a flock of
new plants spring up ten feet from
the first; dozens of them for every
pod that drops. You know how
geometrical progression works out.
They’ll cover the whole country—
the whole world. Lord I”
“Man alive, this Is terrible! I
hadn’t thought of that before.
What’ll we do?”
“Yeah, that’s the question: what
can we do?” Van started his motor
and jerked the car to the road. .
“First off, we’re going to get away
from here — fast !”
Bart gripped his arm aa he shifted
into second gear. "Look, Van!” he
babbled. "They’re out of the woods
already. Loose! The red snakes are
loose from their stalks. They’re
alive, I tell you!”
It was true. Several of the slimy
red things were wriggling their
way over the macadam like great
earthworms, but moving with the
speed of hurrying pedestrians. Free,
and untrammeled by the roots and
stems of the mother plants, they
had set forth on their own in the
search for beings of flesh and blood
to destroy. Millions of their kind
would follow; billions!
In sudden panic Van stepped on
the gas.
F IFTEEN minutes later, with
shrieking siren, ■ motorcycle
drew alongside and forced them to
the curb. “Where’s the fire?” the
sarcastic voice of a stern-visaged
officer demanded, when Van had
brought his car to a screeching
stop. Seventy-five, the speedometer
had read but a moment before.
“It’s life and death, officer,” Van
started to explain. “We must get
to the proper officials to warn the — *
“Aw, tell it to the judge! Come
on now, follow me.”
"But officer, there’s death on its
way from the hills, I tell you. Red,
creeping things that’ll be here in
a couple of hours—”
“Get away from that wheel. Til
drive you in meself. You’re fulls
applejack.”
Bart had opened the door on his
side and was limping his way
around the back of the car. This
was serious. They had to get away;
had to spread the word in a way
that would be believed before it
was too late. The officer was tug-
ging at Van’s arm, astonishment and
black rage showing in his weather-
beaten countenance. Speeding,
THE moon weed
243
drank, resisting an officer — they’d
never get out of this mess I A swift
uppercut interrupted the proceed*
ings. Bart’s leg was numb and stiff,
but his good right arm was work-
ing smoothly and with all its old
tune precision. His second punch
ms a haymaker. With his full
weight behind it, it drove straight
to the chin and stretched the officer
on the concrete. Thoughtfully, Bart
removed his pistol from its holster
before scrambling in at Van's side.
“Boy, now we’re in for it!" he
gasped.
“And we might as well make a
good job while we're at it." Van
let in his clutch with a jerk, and
(gain they were breaking all traffic
regulations.
I T was dusk when they roared in
through the gate at the Rock-
land County Airport and pulled
up at the hangar office. Van rushed
in, shouting for Bill Petersen, and
Bart followed. A slender, fair-
haired youth in rumpled flying togs
greeted them.
"Bill, my friend, Bart Madison,”
Van blurted without pausing for
breath. "Listen, we’ve got to have
a plane right away. Cot one with
a radio?”
"Yes, but what’s all the rush?
Where you going?”
"Albany. Right away. Make it
•nappy, will you?”
“Sure, but what’s it all about?"
Young Petersen was leading them
to the field where a sleek mono-
plane was in waiting as if they had
ordered it. “Warm her up, Joe," he
called to the mechanic.
"Listen, Bill — I never lied to you,
did I?" Van asked, when they were
tested in the plane’s cabin.
"Not that I know of. But some-
times I’ve thought you were lying,
tmtil I saw with my own eyes the
things you had told me about. What
is it this time?”
"Death and destruction. Coming
down out of the RamapoB. We’ve
got to warn the country. Plants,
Bill — squirmy red plants with long
feelers that can twist around a man
and devour him. Half animal, they
are, and the feelers break loose
and crawl by themselves. Multiply-
ing like nothing you ever saw. Mil-
lions of them in an hour.”
“What?” Petersen stared incred-
ulously as his motor roared into
life. Then he gave his attention to
the business of taking off. He
jerked the thumb of his free hand
toward the radio.
V AN’S expert fingers manipu-
lated the switches and dials
of the portable apparatus, and its
vacuum tubes glowed into life.
“2BXX calling 2TIM,” ( he droned
into the microphone.
“Who’s that?” Bart asked. The
drone of the motor was barely aud-
ible in the closed cabin and did not
interfere.
“The Times. Trying to get Johnny
Forbes. If anyone can get this thing
across, be can. Wait a minute, here
they are.” He closed his eyes as he
listened to the murmuring voice in
the headphones.
Then he was talking rapidly,
forcefully, and. the young flyer
gazed with owlisji solemnity at Bart
as they listened to his conversa-
tion. It was plain that Bill was but
half inclined to believe, though im-
pressed by the earnestness and evi-
dent apprehension displayed by his
two passengers.
“Yes, 2BXX,” Van was saying.
“Connect me with Johnny Forbes,
please— in a hurry. Yes. . . . Hello,
Johnny, it’s Van — Carl Vanderven-
ter, you know. Yes; got a scoop for
you, but first I want you to get it
in the broadcasts. Get me? It’s about
a man-eating plant that’s starting to
overrun the country. No— listen
now, I’m not dreaming — listen — ”
The frantic scientist rambled on
and on about the seed from the
244
ASTOUNDING STORIES
moon, the red* death that was creep*
ing down from the mountains, the
horror of the calamity as he and
Bart had visioned it. Then, with
a sudden note of despair, his voice
trailed off into nothingness and he
turned a drawn white face to his
two friends.
"Laughed at me. Hung up on me,”
he groaned. "Good God I We’ve got
to do something— quick I”
"Be in Albany in an hour," the
pilot suggested. ‘VWhat you going
to do there?” He believed, now.
His expression of horror showed it.
"See the governor. But, man, it’s
an hour wasted 1 We must stir up
the country — get the word to Wash-
ington— everywhere. It might be
possible to fight the things some
way if we can mobilize State and
National resources quickly enough.
Bill, Bart, what can we do?”
T HE plane sped oq^through the
night undef control of her gyro-
pilot as the three men racked their
brains for a solution of the prob-
lem. If a hard-boiled newspaper
man would not believe the story,
who could?
"I’ve got it!” Bart shouted sud-
denly. "Can either of you pound a
key — code, I mean?”
“Sure, I can. Then what?” Peter-
sen returned.
“Fake an S. O. S. Don’t you see?
All Broadcasting has to stop, and
every ship at sea, every air liner
in this part of the country’ll be
listening — standing by. Give ’em
the story in code. -Let 'em think
we’re in a ship from the moon — cap-
tured by Lunarians who are here
to destroy the world with this weed
of theirs — anything. Make it as
weird as possible. Most everyone’ll
think it’s a hoax, but there are ten
thousand kids — amateurs— who'll be
listening in. Somebody’ll believe it,
and, believe me, there’ll be some in-
vestigating in the neighborhood of
the growth in no time.”
"By George, I believe that’ll it
it!” Van exclaimed. “And the broad-
casters listen in for an S. O. S.
themselves. Got to, you know, so
they know when to start up again.
Some smart announcer will tell the
story — maybe even believe it The
trick will work, sure as shooting!"
T HE pilot glanced at his instru-
ments and saw that the auto-
matic gyro-apparatus was function-
ing properly. Then he moved over
to the radio and threw the switch
that put the key in circuit instead
of the microphone. Rapidly he
ticked off the three dots, three
dashes, and again three dots that
spelled the dread danger signal of
the air. Over and over he repeated
the signal, and then he listened for
results.
“It worked!” he gloated, after a
moment. "They’re all signing off—
the broadcasters. The Navy. Yard
in Brooklyn gives, me the go-ahead.”
He pounded out the absurd mes-
sage with swift fingers, pausing oc-
casionally to ask a pertinent ques-
tion of Van or Bart. At Van’s re-
quest he added a warning to all resi-
dents of New York State west of
the Hudson River and of northern
New Jersey to flee their homes
without delay. He even asked that
the message be relayed to the gov-
ernors of the two states, and that
Governor Perkins of New York be
advised that they were on their way
to Albany to discuss the situation
But he balked at the story of the
Lunarians, telling instead the
equally strange truth regarding the
origin of the deadly growth, and
adding the names of Van and Bart
to lend authenticity to the tale.
Then he signed off and switched
the radio receiver to the loud speak-
er before returning to the pilot’s
seat.
Bart tuned in on the various
broadcasters as they resumed their
programs, finally settling on WOK,
THE MOON WEED
245
Newark, whose announcer was read-
ing the strange message to his radio
public with appropriate comment. A
dime and an outrage he called it,
m affront to the industry and to
the public. An insult to the govern-
ment of the United States. But
writ I A telephone call had just been
itceived at the station from the
village of Sloatesburg. A reputable
citizen of that town had reported
the red growth at the edge of the
State road — huge red earthworms
wriggling across the concrete. An-
other call, and another I The an-
nouncer’s voice was rising hyster-
ically.
“It did work, Bart,” Van exulted.
“Now the hell starts popping.”
G overnor perkins met
them in person when they ar-
rived at the Municipal Airport in
Albany. A great crowd had gath-
ered In the shadows outside the
brilliance of the flood lights, and a
police escort rushed them to the
governor’s private car.
“Here’s where you go to the Bas-
tille for socking that cop,” Van ob-
lerved. His spirits had risen ap-
preciably since that successful S. O.
S. call.
But the governor was in a serious
mood, as they made their way to-
ward the executive mansion through
the milling crowds that lined the
billy streets of the capital city of
Hew York State. Proofs had not
been lacking of the truth of Bill
Petersen’s radio warning. Already
the spreading red death had covered
i circle some eight miles in diam-
•ttr, covering farm lands and de-
fraying the crops, blocking the
mdi and trapping many on the
■treets and in their homes in nearby
Mras. More than a hundred had lost
tkeir lives, and thousands were flee-
ing the threatened area. The coun-
try was in an uproar.
"Gentlemen,” the governor said,
ton they had reached the privacy
of his chambers, “this is a serious
matter, and no time must be lost in
dealing with it. Nevertheless, I want
you, Mr. Vanderventer, to tell your
story of the thing to me and to the
radio system of the United States
Secret Service. The President him-
self will be listening, as will the
chief executives of most of the
states. Hold nothing back, as the
fate of our people is at stake.”
S O Van faced the microphone and
related the history of his work
in the little laboratory in the
Ramapo Mountains. He told of his
interest in the earth’s satellite, and
of his first unsuccessful experiments
with ultra-telescopes in the en-
deavor to explore its surface close
at hand; of the failure of a space-
ship he had built; of the final dis-
covery of the ray, by means of
which it was possible to transport
solid objects from the one body to
the other. He told of the discovery
of man-made relics and of fossils;
he told of the diamonds, and of the
attack by Dan Kelly which had re-
sulted in the spreading of the seed
of the deadly moon weed. He even
related the incident of the traffic
policeman, at which the governor
smiled.
"That has been reported,” he said,
“and you need have no fear on
that score. The charges will be
dropped. I now ask that you give
us your opinion as to the best meth-
od of combatting this new enemy.
Have you any ideas?”
“I have not, sir,” Van replied
gloomily, “though I believe it can
be done only from the air. Possibly
bombing, or a gas of some sort — I
don't know. It will take time, Mr.
Governor."
“Yes, and meanwhile the thing
is overwhelming us at what rate?”
“As nearly as I can estimate it,
the growth is moving with a speed
of four or five miles an hour.”
“By morning you expect it will
246
ASTOUNDING STORIES
have traveled forty or fifty miles
in all directions?"
“I’m afraid so.”
A sharp buzz from the instru-
ment on the governor's desk inter-
rupted them. “The President,” he
whispered.
“That is enough. Governor,” came
the husky tones of President Al-
ford’s voice. “I shall communicate
with Secretary Makely at once. All
available army bombing-planes will
be rushed to the scene. You, sir, will
mobilize the militid^as will the gov-
ernors of the othey states. Mean-
while, this young scientist is to re-
port to the Bureau of Scientific Re-
search in Washington — to-night.
Have him bring a supply of these
seeds with him.” ___
That was all. Governor Perkins
offered no comment, but merely rose
from his seat to indicate that the
discussion was ended. A solemn si-
lence reigned in the room.
“Let’s got” exclaimed Bill Peter-
sen suddenly, unawed by the pres-
ence of the governor. "My ship’s
waiting, and we can stop off for a
couple of those pods and still make
Washington in two hours. Come
on !”
Governor Perkins smiled. “Good
luck, boys,” he said, as they were
ushered from the room. “My car
will return you to the airport. And
remember, the country will be
watching you now, and expecting
much from you. Good-by.”
They were to recall his words in
the dark days ahead.
B EFORE they had reached New-
burgh, they saw a dull red
glow in the skies that told them the
news broadcast to which they had
been listening had not exaggerated.
The red growth was luminous in
darkness. Off there to the south-
west, it was as if a vast forest fire
were lighting the heavens. No won-
der the panics and rioting were
getting out of control of the police!
Coming up over Bear Moun tain
they caught their first glimpse of
the sea of fire that was the red
death by night. Like a vast bed of
glowing embers it covered the coun-
tryside, extending eastward to Hav-
erstraw where it was temporarily
halted by the broad Hudson. It was
a shimmering, undulating mass of
living, luminous things, eating their
horrible way through alj organic
matter that stood in their path.
Writhing, squirming, all-absorbing
monsters that sent out an advance
guard of independent snake-like
tendrils to capture and hold for
the lagging mother-plants whatever
of live stock and humanity they
were able to find.
“Think they’ll get over the river,
Van?" Bart asked.
“Sure they will. Every fugitive
who had a narrow escape after being
in contact with the things is a po-
tential carrier of the seed. I found
several of them sticking to my
clothing after we got away. I picked
a couple off your coat, but didn't
tell you.”
“Lord! What did you do with
them?”
“Put them in the ash receiver in
my car — like a fool. Wouldn’t have
to go down for more if I’d kept
them.”
“Well, it can’t he helped now.
We’ll have a job getting some down
there now, too.”
“I’ll say 60.” Van lapsed into
gloomy silence.
T HEY were over the landing
field above Tomkins Cove, and
Bill turned on the siren whose
raucous shriek operated the mech-
anism of the flood-light switches by
sound vibrations. The field sprang
into instant illumination, and they
circled it once before swooping to
a landing. They were but a mile
from the advancing terror.
The field was deserted, and the
three men started off immediatelyin
THE MOON WEED
247
the direction of the oncoming weed.
“We’ll have to make it snappy,"
Van grunted. “We’ve got about
twelve minutes to get the pods and
get back to the ship. The damn
tbings’ll be here by that time.”
They scrambled over fences and
pushed through thickets. The
lighted windows of a deserted farm-
house were directly ahead, and they
ran through the open gate and
across the fields. Ever, the glow of
the weed grew brighter. A terrified
horse galloped wildly past them and
crashed into the fence, whinnying
piteously as it went down with a
broken leg. They could see the red
rim of the advancing horror just
beyond the road.
One of the detached tendrils
slithered past, each glowing coil
distinctly visible.
“Lucky the things can’t seel”
Bart shuddered.
“Yeah," said Van. "Have to dodge
’em to get in close enough to one
of the plants. Keep your eyes peeled
now, you fellows, in case one of
ns gets caught.”
A terrific explosion rocked the
ground. They had paid no heed to
the roaring of motors overhead. The
bombers were on the job! Shooting
skyward, a column *of flame not a
hundred yards from them showed
where the high explosive had
landed in the red mass. Then, slimy
wriggling things rained all about
them, fragments of the red weed
that still squirmed and crawled and
clung. Bill Petersen yelled and
clutched at his neck where one of
the things had taken hold.
Another warning whistle of a fall-
ing bomb. Crash! More of the hor-
ror raining down and splattering as
it fell. Whistle — crash ! A huge blob
of quivering, luminous jelly fell be-
fore them — a portion of one of the
mother-plants. Crash ! Crash I
“Run!” Van shouted. “Run for
the plane. We’ll never make it now.
Damn those bombers, anyway!”
All along the advancing front
the bombs were bursting, shatter-
ing the air with their detonations
and scattering the glowing red
stems and tendrils in all directions.
The din was appalling, and the in-
creasing brightness of the crimson
glow added to the horror of the
situation. Stumbling and cursing,
they ran for the plane.
“Fools! Fools!" Bill was shout-
ing. “Can’t they see the field and
the plane? Why in the devil are
they dropping them so near?”
T HEN Bart was down, clawing at
B three-foot length of red ten-
dril that had fallen on him and
borne him to the earth.
“Bart! Bart!" Van turned back
and was tearing at the thing with
fingers that were slippery with the
sap that oozed from its torn skin.
Monstrous earthworms! Cut them
apart and each portion lived on, took
on new vigor. And these vile things
could sting like a jellyfish! Where
each sucker touched the skin a burn-
ing sore remained.
Bill helped them break away from
the thing, and all three fought on
toward the lights of the landing
field. Only a short way off now; it
seemed they would never reach it.
The bombers were dropping their
missiles with unceasing regularity,
and the red death only spread the
faster.
When they scrambled into the
cabin of the plane, the red wall of
creeping horror was almost upon
them. Advancing speedily out from
the red-lit darkness, it seemed to
halt momentarily, when it emerged
into the brilliance of the great arc-
lights which 'illuminated the field.
Then, more slowly and with seem-
ingly purposeful deliberation, the
wriggling feelers reached out from,
the mass and bore down upon them.
Bill slammed the door and latched
It, then fumbled frantically with the
starter switch. A most welcome
248
ASTOUNDING STORIES
sound was the answering roar of
the motor.
The pilot yanked his ship into
the air, taking off with the wind
rather than running the risk of
remaining on the ground long
enough to taxi around and head into
it. The plane acted like a fright-
ened bird as Bill struggled with
the controls, darting this way and
that, and dnce missing a crash by
inches as the tail was lifted by the
treacherous ground wind. Then they
were clear, and slowly gained alti-
tude in a steep climb.
“Whew!” Van exclaimed, mopping
his red-splattered forehead with his
handkerchief. "That was a narrow
squeak, boys. And weTiaven’t got
the seeds, yet — unless we can find
a few on our clothing.”
“Who said so?” Bart gloated.
“Look at this.”
He opened his clenched fist and
disclosed one of the pods, unbroken
and gleaming horribly scarlet in the
dim light of the cabin. Bill heaved
a sigh of relief as he banked the
ship and swung around toward the
south. He had dreaded another land-
ing near the sea of moon weed. Van
chortled over their good fortune
as he examined the mysterious pod.
One good thing the bombers had
done, anyway! Blew one of the
things into his friend's hands.
B ART and the young pilot
found themselves very much
out of the picture when they re-
ported with Van at the Research
Building in Washington. The Gov-
ernment had no use for them in this
emergency; it was the scientist they
wanted, ' and he. was immediately
rushed into conference with the
heads of the Bureau. His two
friends were left to shift for them-
selves, and they joined the crowds
in the street.
The name of Carl Vanderventer
was on everyone's tongue. Cursing
and reviling him, they were, for the
hare-brained experiment which had
been the cause of the terrible dis-
aster. Fools! Bart seethed with rage
and nearly came to blows with a
number of vociferous agitators whs
were advocating a neclctie-party.
Why hadn’t the officials published
the entire story as Van told it over
the Secret Service radio? There was
no mention of Dan Kelly in the
broadcast newB, nor of the fact that
the police were searching for him
in every city and town in the coun-
try. Another instance of the results
of secrecy in governmental activi-
ties!
“We’d better find ourselves a
room and turn in,” Bart growled.
"Let’s get out of .this mob before I
slam somebody.”
Bill Petersen was only too will-
ing. He was suddenly very tired.
In the Willard Hotel they were
assigned to an excellent room, and
Bart insisted on switching on the
broadcasts and listening to the news.
Far into the night he sat by the
loud-speaker, or paced the floor as
an exceptionally calamitous hap-
pening was reported. But Bill slept
through it all.
The army bombers had been re-
called. Their efforts had worked
more harm than good. The invin-
cible moon weed now had crossed
the Hudson River at Nyack and
Piermont. Tarrytown was overrun,
and many of the inhabitants had
lost their lives either in the maws
of the insatiable monsters or in the
panics and rioting that accompanied
the evacuation of the town.
N EW JERSEY was covered as
far south as New Brunswick,
and west to Phillipsburg and Bel-
videre. At Mauch Chunk the con-
tents of twenty oil tanks had been
diverted to the Delaware River, and
the floating oil film was proving at
least a temporary protection to a
considerable portion of the state of
Pennsylvania. In New York Stats
THE MOON WEED
249
the growth had buried hill and val-
ley, town and village, as far as Mon-
ticello, and, along the Hudson, ex-
tended as far north as Kingston.
At Poughkeepsie, on the opposite
tide of the river, frantic house-
holders had armed themselves with
rifles and shotguns, and were kill-
ing off all refugees who attempted
to land from boats at that point.
But the militia was on guard at the
bridges, assuring safe crossing to
the thousands who fled the red
death over these routes. There was
no keeping the seed of the moon
weed from finding its way east.
At some points fire had been used
with considerable success as a bar-
rier, hundreds of acres of forest
lends being destroyed in the en-
deavor to stem the crimson tide.
But, after the ashes were cool, ger-
mination would recur, and the weed
would continue on its triumphant
way. Acid sprays and poison-gas of
various kinds had been tried with-
out appreciable effect. The casualty
estimates already ran into the tens
of thousands; rumor had it that
nearly one hundred thousand had
lost their lives in the city of New-
ark alone. There was no way in
which the figures could be checked
while everything was in a state of
confusion.
Communication lines were broken,
roads blocked, gas and electric sup-
ply systems paralyzed and the rail-
roads helpless. Trains could not be
driven through the glutinous, wrig-
gling mass that piled high on the
tracks. Only the radio and the air
lines were operative in the stricken
area, and even these were of little
value to the unfortunates who, in
many cases, were surrounded and
cut off from all hope of succor.
At four in the morning, with ach-
ing heart and reeling brain, Bart
threw himself on the bed without
undressing and fell into the trou-
bled sleep of exhaustion and de-
spair.
T HE next day brought no en-
couragement, though U was re-
ported that the growth developed
with less rapidity after sunrise than
it had during the night. Bart en-
deavored to get Van on the tele-
phone, but was curtly informed by
the operator at the Research Build-
ing that no incoming calls could be
transferred to the laboratory where
he was working. Knowing his
friend, he pictured him as working
feverishly with the Government en-
gineers and, giving no thought to
sleep or food. He’d kill himself,
sure I But such a death, even, was
preferable to the red one of the
moon weed.
The Canadians and Mexicans had
been quick to protect their borders
and forbid the landing of any Amer-
ican aircraft or the passage of trains
and automobiles. But the seed had
reached Europe, one of the twelve-
hour night air-liners having carried
a thousand refugees who had suffi-
cient foresight and the means to
engage passage. It was a world
catastrophe they faced!
By mid-afternoon the streets of
Washington were almost deserted.
“It was less than twenty-four hours
since the first moon seed took root,
and already the crimson growth had
progressed nearly a hundred miles
southward from the point of origin!
Another twenty or thirty hours and
it would reach the capital city — un-
less Van and those engineers over
in the Research Building discovered
something ; a miracle.
Bart tried the telephone once
more and was overjoyed when the
operator, all apologies now, in-
formed him that Van had been try-
ing to reach him for several hours.
“Listen, old man,” his friend’s
voice came over the wire: “I’ve"
been worried as the devil not know-
ing where you were. I want you and
Bill to stick around where I can
get you at any time. 1 may need
you. Where are you staying?’’
250
ASTOUNDING STORIES
“The Willard. Have you doped
out something?” Bart answered in
quick excitement.
“Maybe. Can't let anything out
yet — not till we’ve tested it thor-
oughly. But I can tell you that a
hundred factories are already work-
ing on machines we've devised. By
good luck it only means minor
changes to an apparatus that is on
the market in large quantity.”
"Great stuff. The city’s nearly
emptied itself, you know, and, boy.
how they’ve been jazzing you over
the radio and in the papers — howl-
ing for your hide, the whole coun-
try.”
“I know.” Van’s voice was calm,
but Bart sensed in it something of
a cold fury that was new to him in
his friend. The young 'scientist was
bitterly resentful of the attitude of
the public.
"Can we see you, Van?”
"No, nor call - me either. Better
hang around the hotel and wait for
a call from me. So long now, Bart.
I’ve got to get busy.”
“So long.”
Bart gazed solemnly at Bill Pet-
ersen, who had been listening ab-
stractedly to the one-sided conver-
sation. Bill had given up hope and
was resigned to the inevitable.
“Says he may need us. Bill,” said
Bart.
“Yeah? Well, we’ll be ready for
anything he wants us to do. It’s no
use though — anything.”
“What do you mean — no use? You
never saw Van licked yet, did you?”
“Sure I did. By his super-tele-
scopes and the rocket ship.”
"But this is different.” Bart was a
staunch defender of his friend. He
glared at Bill for a moment^and,
then switched on the news broad-
cast which he knew he detested.
T HE progress of the moon weed
continued unabated. In the city
of New York a million souls were
reported as having lost their lives,
and this in spite of the difficulty ex-
perienced^- by the uncanny moon
weed idE^obtaining a foothold in
Manhatq^. ft had been thought that
the asphalt and concrete would
prove an effective barrier, and so
they did\for a time. But, with the
seed active in the parks and along
the water' fronts, it was not long
before the powerful roots of the
greedy plants worked their way un-
derneath, ripping up pavementB and
wriggling into cellars as they pro-
gressed. The city was a mass of
wreckage and a maelstrom of fight-
ing, dying humanity.
Whole regiments of the National
Guard were wiped out as they
fought off the weed with ax and
bayonet, in the effort to provide
time for the refugees to clear from
their homes in certain localities.
All transportation facilities to the
south and west were taxed to the
tltmost. There was fighting and kill-
ing for the possession of automo-
biles and planes and for room in >
trains and buses. Air-line terminals
and railroad stations were the
scenes of dreadful massacres as the
police and military guards fought
off the crazed and desperate crea-
tures who attacked them en masse.
And still the news announcen
prated of the responsibility of one
Carl Vanderventer.
The telephone bell rang, and Bart
answered it in relief. At last they
were to see some action! But no,
it was merely the desk clerk, no-
tifying him that all employees were
leaving the hotel and that they
would be left to shift for them-
selves. Yes, there was plenty of
food in the kitchens; they were wel-
come to it. And a permanent tele-
phone connection would be made
to their room. The frightened clerk
wished them luck.
I N endless monotone, the voice of
the news announcer droned on.
Binghamton and Elmira, Albany and
THE MOON WEED
251
Schenectady, New Haven, Philadel-
phia, Allentown — all had succumbed.
The casualty estimates now ran into
tbe millions. The mist, the red
mist that rose from the steaming
weed, was drifting westward and
spreading the seed with ever in-
creasing rapidity. For now the mon-
strous growth from out the sky was
adapting itself to its environment;
providing the seed with feathery
tufts that permitted the winds to
carry them far and wide like the
seed of a dandelion.
“Turn off that damn thing!” Bill
shouted. And he jumped to his feet,
bis eyes glinting strangely in the
twilight gloom of the room. Bill
was close, to the breaking point.
"Guess you’re right,” Bart mum-
bled. “Not good for either of us to
listen to that stuff.” He switched
off the receiver, and they sat in
silence as darkness fell over the
city.
Bill shivered and felt for the but-
ton of the electric light which he
pressed with a trembling finger.
They blinked in the sudden illu-
mination, but it cheered them some-
what. It was not good to sit in the
darkness and think. Besides, they
knew that the turbine generators of
Potomac Edison were still running.
Some brave souls- were sticking to
their jobs — for a time, at least.
“God I” Bill suddenly groaned,
after an endless time of dead si-
lence. "My sister! Lives in Pitts-
burgh, you know. Wonder if she
and the kids got away. It won’t be
long before the damn stuff gets
there.”
i Bart thanked his lucky stars that
he had no family ties. “Oh, they’ve
bad plenty of warning,” he tried to
console Bill. “Hours, you know;
and the westbound lines are in good
shape from there. I wouldn’t worry
■ about them if I were you.”
There was utter silence once
more. Even the customary street
noises was lacking. Both men
jumped nervously when the shrill
siren of a police motorcycle sounded
in the distance. Bart thought grimly
of his fracas with the officer who
had tried to arrest Van. How long
ago that seemed, and how inconse-
quential an incident!
Their windows faced north, and
by midnight they could make out
the red glow of the moon weed, that
awful band of flickering crimson
that painted the horizon the color
of blood. The telephone clamored
for attention and Bill stifled a hys-
terical sob as the terrifying sound
broke the eery stillness.
Van was on the way to get them!
He had a Government car and they
were to go to Arlingtoii for Bill's
plane. Then what? He refused to
commit himself; they must follow
him blindly. Anything was better
than this inactivity, though. Bart
shouted with glee.
“TITE'RE going north,” Van
VV replied shortly, in answer
to Bart’s question when they entered
the official car in front of the
hotel, “after Dan Kelly.”
“After Dan Kelly? Got a line on
him?”
“Yes. Secret Service reports Ijim
in Toronto. The Canucks are after
him now, but, by God, I'm going
to get him myself!”
Van was haggard and wan, his
eyes gleaming with a fanatical
light. The strain had done some-
thing to him — something Bart didn't
like at all. This was a different
Van from the man who had en-
tered his office two days previously.
Unshaven and unkempt, he looked
and talked like a drunken man on
the verge of delirium tremens.
"What’s the idea. Van?” he asked
gently.
“I'm going to get him, I tell you.
The scum! It’s his fault the whole
world’s against me. I’ll get him,
Bart; I’ll kill him with my bare
hands!”
252
ASTOUNDING STORIES
So that was it I The combination
of gruelling labor in the effort to
save mankind from the dread moon
weed, and bitter censure from the
very people he was trying to save,
had been too much for Van. He had
developed a fixation, unreasoning
and murderous; he’d get even with
the man who had caused the trou-
ble. And nothing could deter him
from his purpose: Bart could see
that. Might as well humor him and
help him. It made litye difference,
anyway, with the red /doom spread-
ing at its present rate. They’d all
be victims in a few days.
They were speeding through the
streets of Washington at a break-
neck rate. Van bent over^the wheel,
and like a demented man glued bis
wildly staring eyes to the road.
"What about your work?” Bart
asked, after a while. “Has any-
thing been accomplished ?”
"Yes and no. They’ll be ready to
shoot in a few hours. Don’t know
whether it’ll be a complete success
or not. But I sneaked away anyhow.
This other thing’s more important
to me right now.’’
“What’s the dope? Can you tell
us now?” ..
“Sure. I’ve got one of the machines
in the car and I’ll explain when
we’re on our way to Canada.”
This wasn’t like Van. Never se-
cretive and always in good humor,
he was treating his friends like an-
noying-strangers.
“You can’t land in Canada,” Bill
ventured, as they pulled up at the
gate of the airport.
"Like hell I can't 1 You watch my
smoke, and let any bloody Canuck
up there try and stop me!”
He was lifting a small black case
from the luggage carrier of the car
as he replied. Bart silenced the air-
man with a look.
W HEN they had taken off and
were well under way, Van
opened his black case and set a vac-
uum-tube apparatus in operation.
They were nearing the fringe of the
glowing sea of red that was the
vast blanket of moon weed. It now
extended to within a few miles of
Baltimore and stretched northward
as far as the eye could see.
"It was a cinch,” Van was explain-
ing. “When I first saw that the
growth slowed up under the arc-
lights at Tomkins Cove it gave me
the glimmering of an idea. Then, on
the following day, when we learned
that the weed spread more slowly in
sunlight, I was convinced. The stuff
is dormant on the moon, you know.”
"Why?” Bart asked breathlessly.
“Because there is no atmosphere
Surrounding the moon, and the sun’s
rays are not filtered before they
reach its surface as they are here.
The invisible rays, ultra-violet and
such, are present in full proportion.
And the moon weed can not flourish
when subjected to light of the
higher frequencies. It died out when
the moon lost its atmosphere, and
only revived on being brought to
earth — probably a million-times more
prolific in our dense and damp at-
mosphere and rich soil. The thing’s
a cinch to dope out.”
"Yeah!” Bart commented drily.
Van was now talking and he could
have bitten off his tongue for in-
terrupting him.
This machine of Van’s was a gen-
erator of invisible light in the ultra-
indigo range, Van explained. You
couldn’t see its powerful beam, but
they had proved in the laboratory
that it was certain doom to the
moon weed. They had grown the
stuff from seed in steel cages, and
played with it until they were all
satisfied. Now would come the final
test. Ten thousand planes were
being equipped with the new geA-
erator, which was merely an adap-
tation of standard directional tele-
vision transmitters, and to-night
these would start out to fight the
weed. It was a cinch!
THE MOON WEED
253
B ENEATH them the red caul-
dron seethed and tossed as they
sped northward ; the crimson
blanket of death that was steadily
covering the country.
“Drop to a thousand feet, Bill,"
the scientist called, “and then watch
below. But, don’t slow down. We’ve
got to get to Toronto 1”
The ship nosed down and soon
leveled off at the prescribed alti-
tude- Van’s vacuum tubes lighted to
full brilliancy, and a black spot ap-
peared on the glowing surface just
beneath them, a black spot that ex-
tended into a streak as the plane
continued on its way. They were
cutting a swath of blackness fifty
feet wide through the heart of the
growth!
“See that !” Van gloated. “It's kill-
ing them by millions! And the best
of it is the effect it leaves behind.
The soil is permeated to a depth of
several inches and the stuff will not
germinate in the spots where the
ny has contracted. Oh, it works to
perfection!”
Bill was exuberant; his hopes re-
vived miraculously. He gave his mo-
tor the gun and got out of it every
last revolution that it could turn
up. He must get -Van to Canada!
Not such a bad idea, this going
after Kelly, at that!
Bart was voluble in his praise,
then caught himself short as he.
remembered that he had doubted
Van but a half hour previously;
doubted him and despaired. Now
Van, lapsing into gloomy silence
after his triumph, was again think-
ing of nothing hut revenge. The
getting of Dan Kelly meant more to
him now than the extinction of the
moon weed.
W HEN they landed at the To-
ronto Airport they were wel-
comed with open arms instead of
with rifle fire as Bill had antici-
pated. The news had gone forth.
Already a thousand planes flying
over the United States were driving
back the sea of destruction. The in-
visible ray was a success, and the
name of Carl Vanderventer was now
a thing with which to conjure,
rather than one on which to heap
imprecation and insult. Van grim-
aced wryly at this last bit of news.
Danny Kelly? No one at the air-
port had ever heard of him. Van
- telephoned in to the city; to Police
Headquarters. Yes, they had appre-
hended the fugitive American at the
request of Washington, but he was
a slippery customer. He had es-
caped. Van raged and fumed.
Of what use were the congratu-
lations of the night flyers who still
loitered in the hangar; of what
consolation the radio reports of the
success of the ultra-indigo ray in
the States and in Europe? He had
come after his man and he’d failed.
Defeat was a bitter pill.
The news broadcasts from the
States were jubilant and became in-
creasingly so during the night. The
moon weed was being driven back
on a wide front and by morning
would be entirely surrounded. There
would be no further loss of life and
little more destruction of property.
Carl Vanderventer had saved the
day! Van grunted his disgust when-
ever an announcer mentioned his
name.
When daylight came they pre-
pared to return. Little use there was
of searching the highways and 1 by-
ways of Canada for the fugitive.
He'd simply have to wait until the
Canadians were able to get a line
on Dan Kelly again. It was mad-
dening! But Bart was glad. The
light of reason was returning to his
friend's eyes in the reaction.
Then there was a telephone call
from the city for Van. Police Head-
quarters wanted him. The fanatical
glint returned to his eyes when he
ran for the hangar to answer the
call. Perhaps they had already cap-
- tured Kelly! And he had an order
254
ASTOUNDING STORIES
in his pocket for the man’s return
to the States. He’d been made a dep-
uty, and with Kelly released to him
anything might happen. Something
would happen.
B UT the police were reporting
the unexplainable reappearance
of the moon weed just outside the
city limits at a point near Cookes-
ville. Would Mr. Vanderventer be
so kind as to fly over there and
destroy it before any lives were
lost? He would. ^
The growth had /covered an acre
of ground by the time they reached
the spot designated. But it was the
work of only a minute to blast it out
of existence with the ultra-indigo
ray. Van surveyed the blackened and
shriveled mass with satisfaction.
“Let’s land and take a look at it,”
he said.
Bart thought he saw a look of
exultation flash over his careworn
features.
Soon they were wading deep in
the blackened remains of the moon
weed. The stems and tendrils
^napped and crumbled into powder
as they passed through. The stuff
was done for, no question of that.
Bill Petersen yelled and pointed
a shaking forefinger at an object
that lay in the blackened ruin. It
was a human skeleton, the bones
bare of flesh and gleaming white in
the light of the early morning sun.
Van was on his knees, quick as a
flash, feeling around the grewsome
thing; pawing at the shreds of
clothing that remained.
Then he was on his feet, his face
shining with unholy glee. In his
hands were a half dozen small,
smooth objects which looked llkq
pebbles. The diamonds!
“I thought sol" he exclaimed.
“It’s Kelly. Only way the seed could
have gotten up here. He had some
on his clothes and didn’t know it
t couldn’t get him myself — but any.
way I’m satisfied.”
H E staggered and would have
fallen had not Bart caught
him in his arms. Poor old Van!
Nearly killed him, this thing had,
but he’d be himself again after it
was all over. No wonder he’d gone
out of his head with the horror of
it, and the blame that had been sq
cruelly laid on him! No wonder
he'd become obsessed with this idea
of getting square with Dan Kelly!
But now he was- content; sleeping
like a babe in Bart’s arms.
Tenderly they carried him to
the plane and laid him out on the
cushions in back. They’d let him
sleep as long as he could; return,
him to Washington where he’d re-
ceive his just dueB in recognition
for his services. Then would follow
the work of reconstruction and reha-
bilitation. Van would glory in that.
Bart regarded his sleeping friend
thoughtfully as they winged their
swift way toward the American bor-
der. The harsh lines that had
showed in his face during the past
few hours were smoothed away and
in their place was an expression of
deep contentment. He was at peace
with the world once more. Good old
Van.
What a difference there would be
when he awakened to full realiza-
tion of the changed order of things!
What satisfaction and relief!
ASTOUNDING STORIES
Appear! on Newatand s
THE FIRST THURSDAY IN EACH MONTH
Ojo ^ ,
"That portion of the wall has gone back in time exactly three seconds? he announced.
The Port of Missing Planes
By Captain S. P. Meek
that’s the ‘Port of Missing
Planes,’ ” mused Dick Purdy
^ | as he looked down over the
side of his cockpit. “It
looks wild and desolate all right, but
at that I can’t
fancy a bus
Cracking up here In the undergroui
jnd not being
found pronto.
Gosh, Wilder
cracked in the wildest part of Ari-
tona and he was found in a week.’’
The mail plane droned monoto-
nously on through perfect flying
weather. Purdy continued to study
In the underground caverns of the
Selom, Dr. Bird once again locks wills
with the subversive genius, Saranoff.
the ground Recently transferred
from a western run, he was getting
his first glimpse of that section of
ill repute. Below him stretched a
desolate, almost uninhabited stretch
of country. By
looking back he
d caverns of the could see Belle-
. again lock. will. f onte a few
i genius, Saranoff. ....
miles behind
him, but Phil-
ipsburg, the next spot marked on his
map, was not yet visible. Twelve
hundred feet below him ran a silver
line of water which his map told
him was Little Moshannon Run. As
256
ASTOUNDING STORIES
he watched he suddenly realized that
the ground was not slipping by
under him as rapidly as it should.
He glanced at his air-speed meter.
“What the dickens?” he cried in
surprise. For an hour his speed had
remained almost constant at one
hundred miles an hour. Without
apparent cause it had dropped to
forty, less than flying speed. He
realized that he was falling. A
glance at his altimeter confirmed the
impression. The needle had dropped
four hundred feet jand was slowly
moving toward sea-level.
W ITH an exclamation of alarm,
Purdy advanced his throttle
until the three motors of his plane
roared at full capacity: For a mo-
ment his air-speed picked up, but
the gain was only momentary. As
he watched, the meter dropped to
zero, although the propellers still
whirled at top speed. His altimeter
showed that he was gradually losing
elevation.
He stood up and looked over the
side of hiB plane. The ground be-
low him was stationary as far as
forward progress was concerned, but
it was slowly rising to meet him.
He fumbled at the release ring of his
parachute but another glance at the
ground made him hesitate. It was
not more than three hundred feet
below him.
“I must be dreaming 1” he cried.
The ground was no longer station-
ary. For some unexplained reason
he was going backward. The motors
were still roaring at top speed.
Purdy dropped back into his seat in
the cockpit. With his ailerons set
for maximum lift he coaxed every
possible revolution from his lahpr-
ing motors. For several minutes lie
strained at the controls before he
cast a quick glance over the side.
His backward speed bad accelerated
and the ground was less, than fifty
feet below him. It was too close for
a parachute jump.
“As slow as I’m falling, I won’t
crack much, anyway,” he consoled
himself. He reached for his switch
and the roar of the motors died away
in silence. The plane gave a sicken-
ing lurch backwards and down for
an instant. Purdy again leaned over
the side. He was no longer going
either forward or back but was sink-
ing slowly down. He looked at the
ground directly under him. A cry
of horror came from his lips. He sat
back mopping his brow. Another
glance over the side brought an ex-
pression of terror to his white face
and he reached for the heavy auto-
matic pistol which hung by the side
of the control seat.
"TTE cleared Bellefonte at aim
Xi in the morning. Dr. Bird'’
said Inspector Dolan of the Poet
Office Department, "and headed to-
ward Philipsburg. He never arrived.
By ten we were alarmed and by
eleven we had planes out searching
for him. They reported nothing. He
must have come to grief within a
rather restricted area, so we sent
search parties out at once. That was
two weeks ago yesterday. No trace
of either him or his plane has been
found.”
“The flying conditions were
good?”
"Perfect. Also, Purdy is above
suspicion. He has been flying the
mail on the western runs for three
years. This is his first accident. He
was carrying nothing of unusual
value.”
“Are there any local conditions
unfavorable to flying?”
“None at all. It is much uninhab-
ited country, but there is no reason
why it shouldn’t be safe country to
fly over.”
“There are some damnably unfav-
orable local conditions, Doctor, sl-
though I can’t tell you what they
are,” broke in Operative Carnes of
the United States Secret Service.
"Dick Purdy was rather more than
THE PORT OF MISSING PLANES 4
257
in acquaintance of mine. After hit
was lost I looked ipto the record of
that section a little. It is known
among aviators as ‘The Port of
Hissing Planes.”’
“How did it get a name like that?”
“From the number of unexplained
and unexplainable accidents that
happen right there. Dugan of the
sir mail, was lost there last May.
They found the mailbags where he
had dropped them before he crashed,
but they never found a trace of him
or his plane.”
“They didn’t?”
“Not a trace. The same thing hap-
pened when Mayfield cracked in Au-
gust. He made a jump and broke his
neck in landing. He was found all
right, but his ship wasn’t. Trierson
of the army, dropped there and bis
plane was never found. Neither was
be. He waa seen to go down in a
forced landing. He was flying last
in a formation. As soon as he went
down the other ships turned back
and circled over the ground where
he should have fallen. They saw
nothing. Search parties found no
trace of either him or his ship.
Those are the best known cases, but
I have heard rumors of several pri-
vate ships which haye gone down in
that district and have never been
teen or heard of since.”
D R. BIRD sat forward with a
glitter in hiB piercing black
eyes. Carnes gave a grunt of satis-
faction. He knew the meaning of
that glitter. The Doctor’s interest
had been fully aroused.
“Inspector Dolan,” said Dr. Bird
sharply, “why didn’t you tell me
those things?”
“Well, Doctor, we don’t like to
talk about mail wrecks any more
fhan we have to. Of course, the loss
of so many planes in one area is
merely a coincidence. Probably the
wrecked planes were stolen as sou-
venirs. Such things happen, you
know."
"Fiddlesticks 1” said Dr. Bird
sharply. He raised one long slender
hand with beautifully modeled tap-
ering fingers and threw back his un-
ruly mop of black hair. His square,
almost rugged jaw, protruded and
the glitter in his eyes grew in inten-
sity. “No souvenir hunting vandals
could cart away whole planes with-
out leaving a trace. In that case,
what became of the bodies? No, In-
spector, this has gone beyond the
range of coincidence. There is some
mystery here and it needs looking
into. Fortunately, my work at the
Bureau of Standards is in such
shape that I can safely leave it. I
intend to devote my entire time to
clearing this matter up. The ramifi-
cations my run deeper than either
you or I suspect. Please have all of
your records dealing with plane dis-
appearances or wrecks in that lo-
cality sent to my office at once.”
The Post Office inspector stif-
fened.
“Of course, Dr. Bird,” he said for-
mally, “we are very glad to hear any
suggestion that you may care to
offer. When it comes, however, to
a matter of surrendering control of
a Post Office matter to the Depart-
ment of Commerce or to the Treas-
ury Department, I doubt the pro-
priety. Our records are confidential
ones and are not open to everyone
who is curious. I will inform the
proper authorities of your desire to
help, but I doubt seriously if they
will avail themselves of your offer.”
D R. BIRD’S black eyes shot fire.
"Idiot!” he said. "If you’re a
specimen of the Post Office Depart-
ment, I'll have the entire case taken
out of your hands. Do you mean to
cooperate with me or not?”
"I fail to see what interest the
Bureau of Standards can have in the
affair.”
“The Bureau isn’t mixed up in it;
Dr. Bird js. If necessary, I will go
direct to the President. Oh, thun-
258
ASTOUNDING STORIES
derl Whit’s ffie use of talking to
you? Who’s your chief?”
"Chief Inspector Watkins is in
charge of all investigations.”
"Carnes, get him on the telephone.
Tell him we are taking charge of
the investigation. If he balks, have
Bolton go over his head. Then get
the chief of the Air Corps on the
wire and arrange for an army plane
tomorrow. There is something more
than a mail robbery back of this or
I'm badly fooled."
“Do you suspect — ”
“I suspect nothing and no one,
Carnes — yeti I’ll g)st a few instru-
ments together to take with us to-
morrow. We’ll fly over that section
until something happens if it takes
us until this time next year."
A THREE-SEATEfi scout plane
rose from Langley Field at
eight the next morning. Captain
Garland was at the controls. In the
rear cockpit sat Dr. Bird and Carnes.
Inside his flying helmet, the doctor
wore a pair of' headphones which
were connected to a box on the floor
before him. Carnes carried no ap-
paratus but his hand rested careless-
ly on the grip of a machine-gun.
The plane cleared Bellefonte at
nine-thirty and bore east toward
Philipsburg. Captain Garland kept
his eyes on his instrument board and
on a map. Less than six hundred
feet above the ground, he was fol-
lowing the air-mail route as exactly
as possible. Overhead a mail plane
winged its way east, three thousand
feet above them;
Fifteen minutes brought them to
Philipsburg. Captain Garland Bhot
his plane upward a few hundred
feet.
“Turn back, Captain,” said Dr.
Bird into the speaking tube. "Re-
trace your course a' quarter of a mile
farther north. At Bellefonte, turn
back and go over the same ground
another quarter of a mile north.
Keep flying back and forth, working
your way nortii, until I tell you to
•top.”
The plane swung around and
headed back toward Bellefonte.
“Of course, we can’t tell exactly
what route he followed," said the
doctor to Carnes, “but he was new
on this run and it is safe to assume
that he didn't stray far. We’ll quar-
ter the whole area before we stop.”
Carnes watched the ground below
them carefully. There was nothing
about it to distinguish it from any
other wooded mountainous country
and his interest waned. He glanced
aloft. The mail plane had disap-
peared in the distance and the sky
was clear of aircraft. He turned
again to the ground. It looked closer
than it had before. He turned
and looked at the duplicate altim-
eter. The plane had lost nearly a
hundred feet elevation.
“f I 'HERE'S something wrong
X about this plane. Doctor,” came
Captain Garland’s voice through the,
speaking tube. “It doesn’t behave
like it should.”
“I guess we’ve found what we were
looking for, Carnes," said Dr. Bird
grimly. “What seems to be the mat-
ter, Captain?"
“Blessed if I know,” was the ans-
wer. “It feels like a drag of some
sort, like an automobile going
through heavy sand. We’re slowing
down, though I am giving her all
the gun I’ve got!”
“Cut your motor!” said the doctor
shortly. He bent over the duplicate
instrument board as the roar of the
motor died away. Carnes rose and
looked over the side.
“Look, Doctor!” he cried in a
strained voice. Directly below them
yawned a hole sixty feet in diameter
and extending down into the bowels
of the earth. The plane hovered over
the hole for a moment and then
slowly descended into it.
“What is it?” cried the defective.
“It’s the secret of the Port of
THE PORT OF MISSING PLANES
259
Hissing Planes,” replied Dr. Bird.
Throw off ycur parachute. Keep
your gun and light handy but don’t
fire unless I do first. The same
bolds good for you, Captain.”
The plane sunk until it was fifty
feet below the level of the ground.
Carnes looked up. Gradually the
circle of sky became blurred and
hazy as though the air were heavy
jrith dust. The rasp of Dr. Bird’s
flashlight key aroused him and he
hastily wound his own. The haze
above them grew thicker. Suddenly
the light died and then came dark-
oess, a darkness so thick and abso-
lute that it bore down on them like
a weight. Dr. Bird’s light stabbed a
path through it.
T HEY were in a tunnel or tube
reaching into the ground. The
sides were smooth and polished, as
though water worn. The plane sank
deeper and deeper into the earth.
Suddenly Dr. Bird’s light went out.
“What’s the matter, Doctor?”
asked Carnes, “did your light fail?”
"No," came a strained voice. "I
turned it out.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. Light yours.”
Carnes reached into his pocket.
Dr. Bird could hear his breath come
in panting sobs as though he were
exerting his whole strength.
"I can’t do it. Doctor,” he gasped.
‘I want to, but some power greater
than my will prevents me.”
“Are you affected, Captain?” asked
the Doctor.
“I — can’t — move,” came in muffled
accents from the front cockpit.
"Some power beyond my knowl-
edge has us in its grasp,” said the
doctor. "All we can do is sit tight
and 6ee what happens. We are no
longer falling at any rate.”
, From the forward cockpit came a
rustling sound. There was a slight
jar in the ship, and it gave as though
a weight had been applied to one
aide.
“What are you doing, Garland?”
asked the doctor sharply.
There was no reply. Again came
the rustling sound. The ship gave
a sudden lurch as though a weight
had left the side. Carnes suddenly
spoke.
“Good-by, Doctor,” he said. "I’m
going over the side.”
“I have been fighting it but I’m
going myself in a minute,” replied
the doctor grimly. “Something is
pulling me over. It’s the same power
that keeps me from turning on my
light.”
“It’s perfectly safe to go over,”
said Carnes suddenly. "The plane ia
resting on a solid base.”
“I have the same feeing. Catch
hold of my belt and let’s go.”
T HEY climbed over the side of
the plane and dropped to the
ground. Their descent made abso-
lutely no sound. Dr. Bird stopped
and felt the floor.
“Crepe rubber, or something of the
sort,” he murmured. "At any rate,
it’s noise and vibration proof.”
"Now what?” asked Carnes.
"This way,” replied the doctor
confidently. "I’m beginning to get the
hang of understanding this. The
way is perfectly level and open be-
fore us. Keep your hand on my
shoulder and step right out.”
“How do you know where we're
going?”
"I don’t, but something tells me
that the road is level and open. It
is the same thing that brought us
over the side. I can’t explain it but
it is some sort of a telepathic con-
trol exerted by an intelligence.
Whether the sending mind is rein-
forced by instruments I don’t
know, but I rather fancy not.”
"Where is Garland?”
"He went off in another direction.
I could feel the power that guided
him although it was not directed at
us. Something tells me that he is
safe for the present."
260
ASTOUNDING STORIES
For hall a mile they made their
way through the darkness before
they stopped. This time Carnes
could plainly understand the com-
mand which came to both of them.
“There is a table before us,” said
Dr. Bird. “Lay your flashlight and
pistol on it.”
Carnes struggled against the order
but the power guiding him was
stronger than his will. He strove to
turn on his light. When he could
not, he tried to cock his pistol. With
a sigh, be laid his gun and light on
the table before him. Without words,
the two men walked forward a few
feet and sat confidently down on a
bench that something told them was
there. .
F OR a moment they sat quietly. A
cry, choked in the middle, came
from the detective’s throat. Cold
clammy hands touched his face. He
strove again to cry out, but his voice
was paralyzed. The hands went
methodically over his body, evident-
ly searching for weapons. Muster-
ing up his will, Carnes made a grab
for one of them. His captor appar-
ently had no objection to the detec-
tive’s action for Carnes seized the
hand without effort. But he almost
dropped it. The hand was as large
as a ham. He reached for the other
hand but could not locate it. A
movement on the part of his captor
brought it to him and he made the
startling discovery that the palms
were directed outward. The hand
had only four fingers, which were
armed with long curved claws in-
stead of nails. Carnes ran bis hand
up the palm to search for a thumb
but found none. He found, however,
that, while the hands were naked, the
wrists were covered with short thick
fur.
“Doctor I” he cried, "there’s—"
Again came the overpowering will
and his speech died away in silence.
He sat dumb and motionless while
his captor moved over to Dr. Bird.
r A second animal came forward and
felt the detective over. He was not
allowed to move this time, nor was
he while a third and fourth animal
went carefully over him. The four
drew back some distance.
“Doctor," whispered Carnes as the
influence grew fainter.
“Shh !’’ was the answer, and as the
doctor’s demand for silence was rein-
forced by another wave of the par-
alyzing power, Carnes had no choice.
As he eat there silent, the power
which held him again seemed to
grow less. He found that he could
move his arms slightly. He edged
forward to get his gun and light
Before he reached them, a beam of
fl?ht split the darkness. Dr. Bird
stood, electric torch in hand, staring
before him.
At a distance of a few feet stood
g, group of half a dozen animals
about the height of a man as they
stood erect on their short hind legs.
They were covered with heavy
brown fur. Their lower limbs were
thin and light, but their shoulders
and forelegs were heavy and power-
ful. Their forepaws, which had the
palms facing outward, were armed
with the long wicked claws he had
felt. No visible ears protruded from
the round skulls. Their heads ap-
peared to rest between their should-
ers, so short were their necks. Their
muzzles were long and obtusely
pointed. Through grinning jaws
could be seen powerful white teeth.
“Talpidael” cried Dr. Bird.
“Carnes, they are a race of giant in-
tellectual moles I"
D ESPITE the fact that they had
no visible eyes, the creatures
were strongly affected by the light.
They dropped on all fours and
turned their backs to the scientist
and the detective. Two of them scur-
ried away down a long tunnel which
opened from the room in which they
stood. Dr. Bird turned his light
up and swept the room. If was
THE PORT OF MISSING PLANES
261
roughly circular, a hundred feet in.
diameter, with a roof ten feet high.
Dozens of tunnels led off in every
direction.
“Your light, Carnes, quick I" cried
the doctor in a strained voice.
Carnes Teached toward the table for
his light. Before he could reach it
he was frozen into immobility. From
the corner of his eye he could watch
the doctor. Dr. Bird was struggling
to bring the light back on the moles
which stood before them. Great
beads of sweat stood out on his fore-
head. Inch by inch he moved the
light closer to his goal, but Carnes
could see that his thumb was steal-
ing up toward the switch button.
Hit breath came in sobs. Suddenly
the light went out.
For some time the two men sat
j motionless on the bench unable to
! speak or move. One of the moles
‘ stepped before them and gave a men-
tal command. The two rose to their
feet. For a mile or more they fol-
lowed their guide, then, at a silent
command, they turned to the right
f or a few steps and stopped. In an-
other moment, the numbing in-
floence had departed.
‘Are you all right, Carnes?”
“Yes, right as can be. Doctor,
what were those things? Where
■re we? What’s it all about?”
“We’ll find out in time, I guess,”
replied the doctor with a chuckle.
“Carnes, isn’t this the darnedest
thing we've ever been through?
Captnred half a mile underground
by a race of giant talpidae before
whose mental orders we are as help-
less as children. Did you under-
etind any of their talk?”
“Talk? I didn't hear any.”
“Well, mental conversation then.
They made no sound.”
“No. All I understood was the
orders I obeyed.”
“T GOT a great deal of it,” the
A doctor said. “We are evident-
ly in or near a sort of central com-
munity of these fellows. They
spoke; thought is a better word;
they thought of doing away with
us but decided to wait until they
consulted someone with more
authority. You see, we are not air-
plane pilots. Captain Garland was
taken at once to the place where they
have other aviators imprisoned.”
“What do they want of pilots
underground?”
“I couldn’t quite get that. There
was another thought that I am not
sure that I interpreted correctly. If
I did, there is some man of the
upper world down here in a position
of considerable authority among
them. He has some use for pilots,
but what use, I don't know. We are
to be held until he is consulted.”
“Who could it be?”
"I can only think of one man,
Carnes, and I hope I’m wrong. I
don't have to name him.”
“You mean — ?”
“Ivan Saranoff. We haven’t heard
of him or had any activity from him
for the last eight months. We know
that he had a subterranean borer
with which he has penetrated
deep into the earth. Isn’t it possible
that he has, at some time in his
explorations, come into contact with
these fellows and made friends with
them?”
“It’s possible. Doctor, but I hoped
we had killed him when we de-
stroyed his borer.”
"So did I, but he seems to bear
a charmed life. Several times we
have thought him dead, only to have
him show up with some new form of
devil’s work. It is too much to hope
that we have succeeded in doing
away with him. Did you notice one
thing? Those fellows were helpless
while I held the light on them. The
one which was holding us captive
got so interested in the discussion
about our fate that he momentarily
forgot us. That was when I got my
light. Until I turned the light away
from them, we were free men.”
262
ASTOUNDING STORIES
HAT'S right,” answered the
secret service man.
‘‘Remember that. The next time
we get a light on a bunch of them,
hold them in the beam until we can
make terms."
“If we ever get hold of a light
again.”
“I have a light they didn’t git,
probably because I didn’t think of
it while they were 'hround. It is one
of those fountain pep battery affairs
and they probably took it for a pen.
I won't turn it on now, partly to
save it and partly not to let them
know we have it. Let’s see what our
prison is like.” ^
They felt their way around the
room. It proved to be eight paces
by ten in size. Like the tunnels it
was floored with crepe rubber or
some similar substance which gave
out no sound of footsteps, yet was
firm underfoot. The room was fur-
nished with two beds, a table and
two chairs. There was no sign of
a door.
“That’s that,” exclaimed the doc-
tor when they had finished their ex-
ploration. “I'm hungry. I wonder
when we eat. Hello, here comes one
of the fellows now.”
Carnes made no reply. As the
doctor’s speech ended, a wave of
mental power enveloped the room.
One of. the moles entered, moved
over to the table for an instant and
then left the room. An earthly odor
of vegetables pervaded the room.
“My question is answered,” said
the doctor. “We eat now.”
He moved to the table. On it had
been placed dishes containing three
different types of roots. Two of
them proved to be palatable, but the
third was woody and bitter. The
prisoners made a hearty meal from
the two they relished. For an hour
they sat waiting.
“Here they come again I” ex-
claimed the doctor. “We are going
before the person I spoke of. Can’t
you get their thoughts?”
> “No, I can’t. Doctor. I can under-
stand when I get a command, but
aside from those times everything is
a blank to me.”
“My mental wave receiver, if
that’s what it is, must be attuned to
a different frequency t han yomj
for I can hear them talking to one
another. I guess I should say that I
can feel them thinking to one so-
other. At any rate, they want us to
follow. Come along, the road will
be open and level."
T HE doctor stepped out confi-
dently with Carnes at his heels.
For half a mile they went forward.
Presently they halted.
“We are in a big chamber here,
Carnes,” whispered the doctor, “and
there is someone before us. We’ll
have some light in a minute.”
His prophecy was soon fulfilled.
A vague glimmer of light began to
fill the cavern in which they stood.
As it grew stronger they could see
a raised dais before them on which
were seated three figures. Two of
them were the giant moles. Each of
the moles wore a helmet which cov-
ered his head completely, with no
sign of lenses or other means of
vision. It was the central figure,
however, which held the attention
of the prisoners.
Seated on a chair and regarding
them with an expression of sardonic
amusement was a man. Above a
high forehead rose a thin scrub of
white hair. Keen brown eyes peered
at them from under almost hairless
brows. The nose was high bridged
and aquiline and went well with his
prominent cheekbones. His mouth
was a mere gash below his nose,
framed by thin bloodless lips. The
lips were curled in a sneer, reveal-
ing yellow teeth. The whole expres-
sion of the face was one of revolt-
ing cruelty.
“So,” said the figure slowly, “fate
has been kind to me. My friends,
Dr. Bird and Operative Carnes have
THE PORT OF MISSING PLANES
263
chosen to pay me a long visit. I am
greatly flattered.”
The thin metallic voice with its
noticeable accent struck a familiar
chord.
"Saranoff !’’ gasped Carnes.
“Yes, Mr. Carnes, SaranoS. Pro*
fessor Ivan Saranoff, of the faculty
of St. Petersburg once. Now merely
Saranoff, the scourge of the bour-
geois.”
“T HOPED we had killed you,”
X murmured Carnes.
“It was no fault of Dr. Bird’s that
he failed," replied the Russian with
an access of malevolence in his voice.
“His method was a correct one.
Merely the fortuitous fact that we
had just pierced one of the tunnels
of the Selom, and I was away, from
my borer exploring it, saved me. You
did me a good turn, Doctor, without
meaning to. You destroyed an in-
strument on which I had relied. In
doing so, you unwittingly delivered
into my hands a power greater than
iny I had dreamed of — the Selom.”
“What can a mental cripple like
you do with blind allies like them?”
asked Dr. Bird with a contemptuous
laugh. The Russian half rose from
his seat in rage. For a moment his
hand toyed with a switch before him.
The sardonic sneer came back into
his face and he dropped back into
his seat.
“You nearly provoked me to de-
stroy you, Doctor,” he said, “but cold
calculation saved you. Since you
will never return to the upper
world, save when and as I de-
cree, I have no objection to telling
you. The Selom are not blind. Their
eyes are under the skin as is the case
with many of the talpidae, but for all
that they can see very well. Their
eyes function on a shorter wave than
ours, a wave so short that it readily
penetrates through miles of earth
and rock. This cavern is now flood-
ed with it. Visible light, the light
by which we see, is unsuited to their
eyes, hence the helmets which you
see. They can see through those hel-
mets as well as you or I can see
through air.”
“What do you intend to do with
us?”
“Ah, Doctor, there you hit me in a
tender spot. I have a sore tempta-
tion to close this switch on which
my hand rests. Were I to do so,
both you and Mr. Carnes would van-
ish forevermore. I have, however,
conceived a very real affection for
you two. Your brains. Doctor, work-
ing in my behalf instead of against
me would render me well-night om-
nipotent. Mr. Carnes has a certain
low cunning which I can also use to
advantage. Both of you will join
me.”
“\70D might as well close your
X switch and save your breath,
Saranoff, for we will do nothing of
the sort,” replied the doctor sharply.
“Ah, but you will. So will Mr.
Carnes. I had no hopes that you
would join me willingly. In fact, I
am pleased that you do not. I could'
never trust you. All the same, you
will join my forces as have the
others whom I have brought into
the hands of the Selom. I have ways
of accomplishing my desires. It
pleases my fancy. Doctor, to use
your brains in aiding me in my scien-
tific developments. You will enjoy
working with the scientists of the
Selom. Among them you will find
brains which excel any to be found
on the surface of the earth, since we
two are below. Already I have
learned much from them. You, Mr.
Carnes shall be taught to pilot an
airplane. When my cohorts go forth _
from the realms of the Selom to
establish the rule of Russia, you will
be piloting one of the planes. Your
first task will be to learn to fly.”
“I refuse to do anything of the
sort!” said Carnes.
“I will not be ready to have your
flying lessons started until to-mor-
264
ASTOUNDING STORIES
row," replied the Russian, “and you
will have until then to reconsider
your rash decision. It will be much
easier for you if you obey my or-
ders. If you still refuse to-morrow,
you will pay a visit to the laboratory
of the Selom. When you return
your lessons will be started. You
will now be taken to your cell. I
have use for Dr. Bird this after-
noon.”
“I won’t leave Dr. Bird and that’s
flat I” exclaimed Carnes. Dr. Bird
interrupted him.
“Go ahead, Camesy,'\old dear," he
said lightly. “You might just as well
toddle along under your own power
as to be dragged along. You have a
day for reflection, in any event. I
daresay I’ll see you again before
they do anything to you.’*"
Carnes glanced keenly at the doc-
tor’s face. What he saw evidently
reassured him for he turned without
a word and walked away. The light
grew gradually dimmer until dark-
ness again reigned in the cavern.
“Come, Doctor,” said Saranoff’s
voice. “We have work to do.”
C ARNES sat alone In his cell for
hours. The darkness and lone-
liness wore on him until he felt that
his nerves would crack. Not a sound
came to him. He threw himself on
one of the beds and plugged his ears
with his Anger tips in an attempt to
keep the silence out. Then a cheer-
ful voice .sounded in the cell and a
friendly hand fell on his shoulder.
“Well, Camesy, old dear,” said Dr.
Bird, “have you been lonesome?"
“Dr. Bird!” gasped Carnes in tones
of relief. “Are you all right?”
“Right as can be. I learned a lot
this afternoon. For one thing, you’re
going to start flying lessons to-mor-
row and you’re going to do your best
to become an expert pilot in a short
time. It is the only thing to do.”
“And fly a plane for Saranoff?”
“I hope not. The only way to
avoid that very thing is to keep your
mentality unimpaired so that I can
call on you for help when I need it
If the Selom operate on you, you
will be useless to me.”
“Operate? What do you mean?”
“I’ll tell you. The Selom are a
very old and highly civilized people.
For ages they have possessed scien-
tific knowledge for which the upper-
world scientists are now blindly
groping. Among other things, they
have a perfect knowledge of the
workings of the brain. If they oper-
ate they will remove from your brain
every speck of memory you have of
past events, leaving only those
ttyngs that will be useful to Saranoff.
You will be his complete slave. In
that condition you will be taught to
fly a plane. When the time comes,
you will fly one with no remem-
brance of anything which happened
prior to the operation and with no
will but his. It will be easier to
teach you flying in your natural state
if you are willing. You will be
willing.”
“If you wish it, Doctor.”
“T DO wish it, most decidedly,”
X Dr. Bird went on. “Obey
every order they give you. You will
find that the Selom are an enlight-
ened and civilized race. They are
very kindly and would willingly
harm no one."
“Then why have they taken up
with Saranoff?"
“He is the first man with whom
they have come into contact. He
has told them a horrible tale of con-
ditions on the surface, and they have
swallowed it, hook, line and sinker.
They believe that he is going to
establish a new order of happiness
and plenty for all with the aid of his
gang of cutthroats from Russia. If
they had the slightest inkling of tb^
true state of affairs, they would turn
on him in an instant.”
“Why don’t you tell them?”
“Remember that I am a stranger
here and he has poisoned their minds
THE PORT QF MISSING PLANES
265
(gainst me. Although the mind of
an ordinary men is an open book to
them, they cannot read Sarano&’s
tecret thought* against his will.
They can’t read mine either, for that
matter. I am working in the labora-
tory and I will pick up a great deal.
When the time comes, we will strike
for our liberty and for the safety
of the world."
“Did you learn Sarano&'s plans?"
“Yes. He is gathering planes and
pilots in the underground caverns of
the Selom. When he gets enough,
he will bring men from Russia to
man the planes. What could the
United States, or the world for that
matter, do against a fleet of hun-
dreds, possibly thousands, of the
best planes., equipped with deadly
weapons unknown to their science?
That menace confronts us and we
must remove it. To give you some
idea of the power of the Selom, this
ifternoon Saranoff and I with one
assistant opened a cavern in the
■olid rock three miles long and a
mile wide and over six hundred feet
in height”
‘Three men I How on earth did
you do it?”
“Two men and one mole. We did
it with a ray, the secret of which
only the Selom and Saranoff know.”
“\FOU have told me a disinte-
I grating ray is an impossi-
bility,” objected Carnes.
"It is. This was not a disinte-
grating ray. Carnes, either I am
any or the Selom have solved the
secret of time, the fourth dimension.
I haven’t been able to grasp the
whole thing yet. What I think we
did was to remove that rock a dis-
tance, perhaps only a millionth of a
second, forward or back into time.
At any rate it ceased to exist, yet
they can bring it back unchanged at
will'. That was the way they cap-
tured our plane. They sent out a
magnetic ray of such power that it
•topped our plane in midair and
brought it to the ground. They re-
moved the rock from beneath us
and lowered us into the hole. By
reversing the process they restored
things to their original condition.
All of these tunnels and rooms were
made in that way.”
“I still don’t understand how they
did it.”
"I don’t either, but I hope to in
time. Now let's go to bed. It’s late.
To-morrow you will start your les-
sons with Captain Garland as an in-
structor. He won’t know you for he
was operated on this afternoon. Do
your best to become a pilot. When
I get ready, I want you with me in
full possession of all your faculties.”
The next morning the two prison-
ers separated and went to their du-
ties. In the cavern which Dr. Bird
had described, Captain Garland was
waiting beside the plane he had
flown. He did not know Carne9, but
he still knew how to fly. Declining
to enter into any conversation, he
started expounding the theory of
flying to the detective. Carnes re-
membered Dr. Bird’s words and ap-
plied himself wholeheartedly. For
four hours they worked together.
At the end of that time the light
faded in the cavern and Carnes was
led by an unseen guide back to his
cell. He threw himself on a bed and
awaited Dr. Bird’s return.
"I have learned a few more things
about the Selom,” said the doctor
when he entered the cell several
hours later. “We are in their largest
community. They have cities or
warrens scattered all over the world.
Each city has its own ruler, but the
whole race are ruled by an overlord
or king who habitually lives here.
He is away visiting a community
under northern Africa just now, but
he will be back in a few days. The
Selom are sincere in their desire to
help the upper world. They feel
great pity for mankind in view of
the conditions Saranoff has de-
scribed to them. When the king re-
266
ASTOUNDING STORIES
turns, I plan to make a direct ap-
peal to him. In the meantime, go on
with your flying lessons. How did
you make out to-day?”
T HE second day was a repetition
of the first, as were the third
and fourth. A week passed before
Dr. Bird entered the cell in evident
excitement.
"Has Hanac brought our evening
food yet?” he asked'anxiously.
“No, Doctor.” i
“Good. Take this light. As soon
as he enters throw the light full on
him and hold him until I work on
him. We’ve got to make our es-
cape?” ^
“Why?”
“The king is due back to-morrow.
Saranoff is frightened at the good
impression I have made on the Se-
lom. He is supreme in the monarch’s
absence, so he plans to operate on
both of us before he returns. He is
afraid to allow me to see the king
with an unimpaired intellect and
memory. Shhl Here comes Hanac.”
The door to their cell opened noise-
lessly. When the mole who brought
their food was well inside, Carnes
turned on the tiny flashlight. The
mole dropped on all fours and tried
to turn its back. Dr. Bird sprang
forward. For an instant his slim
muscular fingers worked on the
mole's neck and shoulders. Silently
the animal sank in a heap.”
“Come on, Carnes,” cried the doc-
tor. “Turn off the light.”
“Did you kill him, Doctor?” asked
Carnes as he raced down a pitch
dark corridor at the scientist's heels.
“No, I merely paralyzed him tem-
porarily. He’ll be all right in a day
or so. Turn here.”
F OR ten minutes they ran down
corridor after corridor. Carnes
soon lost all track of direction, but
Dr. Bird never hesitated. Presently
he slowed down to a walk.
“It’s a good thing I have a good
memory,” he said. “I planned that
course out from a map, and I had to
memorize every turn and distance of
it. We are now behind your flying
hall and away from any of the regu-
lar dwellings of the Selom. Straight
west about four miles is one of the
time-ray machines with a guard over
it. Aside from them, there isn’t a
mole between here and Detroit.”
"What are we going to do, Doc-
tor?”
"Keep out of their way and avoid
recapture if we can. If we merely
wanted to escape we would try to
get possession of that time-ray ma-
chine and open a road to the sur-
face. However, I am not content
with that. I want to stay under-
ground until Astok, their king, re-
turns. When he comes, we will sur-
render to him.”
“Suppose they operate without
giving us a chance to present our
side of the affair.”
“If they do, Saranoff wins; hut
they won’t. The more I have seen
of the Selom, the more impressed I
am by their sense of justice. They’ll
give us a hearing, all right, and a
fair one.”
For two hours the doctor led the
way. At the end of that time he
stopped.
“We’ve gone as far as we need
to," he said. "They’ll undoubtedly
send out searching parties, but if we
can avoid thinking they won’t be
able to find us. The tunnels are a
perfect labyrinth. If you care to
sleep, go to it. We’ll be safer sleep-
ing than awake, for we won't be
sending out thoughts so fast.”
D R. BIRD threw himself down
on the rubber floor of the tun-
nel and was soon asleep. Carnes
tried to follow his example, but sleep
would not come to him. Frantically
he tried to think of nothing. By an
effort he would sit for a few minute*
with his mind a conscious blank, but
thoughts would throng in in spite of
THE PORT OF MISSING. PLANES
267
him. Time and again he brought
himself up with a jerk and forced
bis mind to become a blank. The
hours passed slowly. Carnes grew
cramped from long immobility and
rose A sudden thought intruded it-
self into his mind. “I might as well
throw that light away,” he mur-
mured to himself. “It will be no
good now. The Selom won’t hurt us
if they do catch us."
He reached in his pocket for the
light. He was about to hurl it from
him when a moment of sanity came
to him. He stared about. The im-
pulse to hurl the light away came
stronger. He strove in vain to turn
it on.
“Doctor !” • he cried suddenly.
“Wake up ! They’re after us 1”
With a bound, Dr. Bird was on his
feet.
“The light!” he cried. “Where is
it?”
“In — my — hand,” murmured
Carnes with stiffening lips.
Dr. Bird seized the light. A beam
stabbed the darkness. Less than
fifty feet from them stood two moles.
As the light flashed on Carnes re-
gained control of himself.
“Take the light, Carnes,” snapped
the doctor. “I’ve gbt to put these
fellows to sleep.”
Slowly he advanced toward the
motionless Selom. He had almost
reached them when the light flick-
ered out. He turned and raced at
full speed toward the detective.
Carnes was standing rigid and mo-
tionless. Dr. Bird took the light
from his hand. Despite the almost
overpowering drag on his mind, he
managed to turn it on. He swung
the beam around in a circle. Besides
the two Selom he had seen before,
the light revealed a pair standing
behind him. As the light struck
them, the numbing influence van-
ished for an instant from the doc-
tor’s mind. He moved a step for-
ward and then halted. The moles
behind him were hurling waves of.
mental power at him. Again the
light cleared him for an instant, but
he got a brief glance of other moles
hurrying from every direction.
“The jig’s up, I guess,” he mut-
tered. He strove to free himself by
the use of his light, but the tiny bat-
tery had done its duty, and gradually
the light grew dimmer. The influ-
ence grew too strong for him. With
a sigh he shut off the feeble ray and
hurled the light from him. The
moles closed in.
“All right,” said the doctor aud-
ibly. “We’ll go peaceably."
A S he spoke the paralyzing power
was withdrawn: With Carnes
at his side he retraced the route he
had taken from the cell. Before
they reached it they turned off. Dr.
Bird realized that they were tread-
ing the familiar path to the labora-
tory.
Outside the laboratory the Selom
halted. A wavfe of mental power
enveloped the prisoners and they re-
mained silent and motionless while
their escort withdrew. From the
laboratory came three of the Selom
scientists. As the laboratory door
opened they could see that it was
bathed in a flood of light, and that
the moles wore helmets covering
their heads. They moved inside.
Clad in a white gown stood Sara-
noff.
“So, my friends, you would run
away and leave me, would you?”
gloated the Russian. “And just when
I had planned a very beneficial oper-
ation for you 1 I will remove perma-
nently from your brains all the de-
lusions which now encumber them,
and for your own puny wills I will
substitute my own.”
The power which had held the
prisoners silent disappeared.
“You have caught us, Saranoff,"
said Dr. Bird. “I know the power
you wield and that you are making
no idle boast. I appeal, however, to
these others, my friends. The opera-
268
ASTOUNDING STORIES
tion you are planning to perform is
not a routine one. It is one that
should have the sanction of the king
before it is done. I appeal from you
to him.”
"He is far away,” laughed Sara-
noff. “When he returns, your plea
will be presented to him, but it will
be too late to do you any good. You
are right, Doctor — I do not plan a
mere routine operation. Not only
will I remove your memory, but I’m
going to use the time-ray on you and
banish forever into tHe unknown a
portion of your brains. Without
knowing which adjustment I make
of the infinite number possible, no
one, not even the king, can ever re-
call it.” '■>
D R. BIRD turned to the Selom
scientists and hurled his
thoughts at them.
“This man intends to commit a
horrible crime,” he thought, “and
one which he has no authority to
perform. To you I appeal for jus-
tice. Bid him wait until Astok re-
turns, and let him be the judge as
to whether it shall be done. Jumor,
you know me well. You know that
my brain is the equal of one of the
Selom. Even you cannot read my
thoughts against my will. Are you
willing to see that brain destroyed.
Astok will be here soon and nothing
will be lost by a short delay.” \
"He thinks truly,” was the anstoer-
'ing thought of Jumor. “It would be
better to wait.”
“We will not wait,” crashed Sara-
noff’s thought into their conscious-
ness. He killed Hanac when he es-
caped, and his punishment shall be
as I have decreed. Did not the king
give me full power while he was
away?”
“It is true that he ordered us to
obey this man in all things dealing
with upper-world men,” thought
Jumor. “If it is true that he killed
Hanac his punishment is doubtless
just.”
“I did not kill Hanac,” returned
the doctor. “He is paralyzed and will
be all right in a few hours, if he isn’t
already. I demand that you wait
until Astok returns. When an ap-
peal is made to him, no other may
judge. So says the Selom law.”
“That is true,” replied Jumor.
“We will wait until the king re-
turns.”
“We will not wait,” came Saran-
noff’s thought. "The king delegated
to me his powers during his absence,
as far as all the world, save the Se-
lom, were concerned. Were it one of
the Selom appealing to the king, I
would be powerless before the ap-
peal. These are not bound by Selom
law and are not entitled to its bene-
fits. We will operate at once.”
“Then you will operate alone,” re-
torted Jumor. “I will not assist
you.”
“I need none of your help,”
thought Saranoff. “Asmo and Camol,
will you help me? If you refuse I
will report to Astok that you have
disobeyed and defied his chosen dele-
gate.”
“We had better assist him, Jumor,”
thought Asmo. “Astok did delegate
his authority. I am not of the no-
bility and I dare not refuse to help.”
“Suit yourself, Asmo,” replied
Jumor. “I refuse to assist, and will
appeal to Astok against him.”
HE third mole hesitated.
“You are higher in rank than
we are, Jumor,” he thought at length,
“and like Asmo, I dare not resist
him. I heard the king givi this
upper-earth man his authority while
he was away. I will assisty’
“And I will leave the room,” re-
torted Jumor.
He moved to a door and threw it,
open. At the threshold he paused
and sent back a final thought.
“I will appeal to Astok, our ruler.
I will send now a message to him to
hurry home that he may judge be-
tween us.”
THE POET OF MISSING PLANES
269
The door dosed behind him. Sara-
noff chuckled audibly.
“Good-by, Carnes,” said Dr. Bird
udly. “This devil can do all he says
he can, and more. I’m sorry I
brought you and Garland into this
mess."
“Oh, well, it can’t be helped, Doc-
tor,” replied the detective with an
ettsnpt at cheerfulness. “What is
hs going to do to us?”
“He’ll have to use instruments for
■bat he plans,” said the doctor. “Or-
dinarily a’ routine mental operation
is performed without the use of ex-
traneous power. The mind of the
operator is electrically connected to
the mind of the victim. By means of
thought waves the operator banishes
from the mind of the subject such
portions of his memory and mental-
ity as he chooses. He may then sub-
ititute other things in place of what
he has removed. Any of the Selom
mold operate on you, but I doubt
whether Junior himself could do it
successfully on me without aid from
power. Here come the instruments.”
SMO and Camol took from a
cabinet on the side of the wall
what looked like a cloth helmet. At-
tached to it were a dozen wires
which they connected to a box on a
table. The box was made of crystal
md inside it could be seen a number
of vacuum tubes and coils of various
Assigns. Other leads ran to a sim-
ilar helmet which Asmo placed on
Ssranoff’s head. A heavy cable ran
ta a switch on the wall.
As Camol closed the switch the
tabes in the box began to glow with
weird lights. Violet, green and or-
atge streamers of light came from
them to dance in wild patterns on
the laboratory walls. For five min-
utes Saranoff made adjustments to
dials on the front of the crystal box.
The colored lights died away and a
(entle golden glow came from the
9paratus. He threw off the helmet.
Camol left the laboratory and re-
turned with a large coil on the top
of which was mounted a parabolic
reflector. A device like a clock on
the front of the coil was constantly
marking the passage of time. The
dial had two indicators which were
together. Saranoff chuckled.
“You may not have seen this de-
vice work, Doctor,” he said. “In
order to let you know what you are
facing, I will demonstrate.”
He turned the reflector so that it
bore on the wall. He adjusted the
moving dial so that the two indica-
tors were no longer together. As he
closed a switch, the wall before the
reflector vanished. Saranoff turned
off the power.
“That portion of the wall has gone
back in time exactly three seconds.”
he announced. “As far as the pres-
ent is concerned, it has ceased to
exist. It is following us through
time three seconds behind us, but in
all eternity it will never catch up un-
less I aid it. Since the exact time is
known, it can be restored. If I were
to alter this adjustment ever so
little, it could never be recalled.
Watch me.”
H E again closed the switch, this
time in a reverse direction.
The wall instantly filled up as it had
been before. He moved the time
dial so that the two indicators coin-
cided.
“After I have sent a portion of
your physical brain into the past or
the future as the fancy strikes me, I
will change the adjustment of that
dial. Since there are an infinite
number of adjustments to which I
might have set it, the chances that any
one could ever duplicate my setting
and restore it are the complement of
infinity, or zero,” he said. “I am now
ready to remove your memory. If
the impossible should happen and
your physical brain be restored it
would be useless. Asmo, adjust the
helmet. I will operate on my friend,
the Doctor, first.”
270
ASTOUNDING STORIES
Carnes strove ,to rush to Dr. Bird’s
assistance, but he was helpless be-
fore the force of Carnot's will. Asmo
adjusted the helmet to Dr. Bird’s
head and buckled it firmly in place.
With an evil grin, Saranoff donned
the other helmet.
“Good-by, Dr. Bird,” he said
mockingly. “You will continue to
see me, but you won't know me, ex-
cept as your master."
H IS hand reached for the switch.
It had almost closed on it
when Saranoff stopped convulsively.
He sat motionless wh$le the labora-
tory door opened and Jumor entered
the room. He was followed by an-
other mole. The newcomer was fully
six inches taller than the others. His
head was hidden by a helmet, but
around his arms he wore strings of
sparkling jewels.
“Ivan Saranoff, what means this?”
his powerful thoughts dominated the
room.
“I was merely engaged in rectify-
ing some of the mental errors of this
man of the upper earth,” explained
the Russian eagerly. “It is merely a
routine operation such as you gave
me authority to perform.”
“An operation which uses power is
not routine,” replied the king. “I
am told that this upper-earth man
has a brain equal to those of my most
advanced scientist. I am also told
that you planned to do more than
rectify his mental errors.”
“You have been falsely informed.
I was merely about to adjust his
memory.”
“Then what means this?” The king
pointed to the time-ray machine.
"That was brought here in order
that it could be used when you re-
turned,” thought the Russian eag-
erly. “This upper-earth man killed
Hanac when he brought him food.”
The door opened and Hanac en-
tered.
"Oh, Astok,” objected Hanac’s
thoughts, “when these upper-earth
men had me at their mercy, with a
light, they spared me. They paral-
yzed me for a time so that they might
escape but they did it in such a man-
ner that no harm came to me.”
“So Jumor told me,” replied the
king. “Release them.”
I N an inBtant Carnes was on hii
feet removing the helmet from
Dr. Bird’s head. The doctor strug-
gled to his feet.
"Dr. Bird,” thought the king, "can
you communicate with me easily?”
"Yes, Your Majesty, but may I ask
that you alter the vibration period
of my comrade, Mr. Carnes? He
cannot understand you with his pres-
ent low period.”
The king stepped to the box with
which Saranoff had been working. Ia
response to his commands the helmet
which had been on Dr. Bird's head
was placed on the detective. The
king made a few adjustments to the
dials and signalled for the helmet to
be removed.
"Can you understand me, Mr.
Carnes?” he asked mentally.
The question leaped with startling
clearness into the detective’s head.
Carefully he framed his answer.
"I can understand you,” said the
king. “I will now sit in judgment
on the appeal made to me. Dr. Bird
tell me your story.”
With eloquent thoughts, Dr. Bird
poured forth the history of the upper
world. He told of the great war and
the collapse of the Russian mon-
archy. He traced history to the fall
of the moderate party and the rise of
the Bolsheviki. He described the hor-
rible conditions existing in Russia.
At the end he reviewed the long bat-
tle he and Carnes had fought against
Saranoff. When he had finished, the
king questioned Carnes.
The detective repeated the story
in different words and the king
turned to Saranoff. From the Rus-
sian’s mind came a tissue of distorted
facts and downright lies. He denied
THE PORT OP MISSING PLANES
271
or twisted around everything that
the detective and the scientist had
■aid. When he had done with his
tale, ABtok sat in secret thought for
a few minutes.
“The tales you tell me are so far
apart that I can give credence to
none of them,” he announced at
length. "There is but one solution.
Although they are never used, for
the Selom have forgotten the mean-
ing of a falsehood, we have instru-
ments which will drag the truth from
the brain of a liar. They are power-
ful and their use may easily be fatal.
If a man gives forth the contents of
Us brain willingly, the process is not
painful. If he tries to conceal any-
thing, it is torture. Will you will-
ingly submit your brains to the
Marching of this instrument?”
"Gladly,” came Dr. Bird’s thought
and Carnes reechoed it.
"And you, Ivan Saranoff?" de-
manded the king.
“I will not submit, 1 * thought the
Russian sullenly.
“You will be examined whether
you submit willingly or not,” replied
Astok. "I am going to learn the truth
though I kill you all to get it."
A T the king’s order, Jumor has-
tened from the laboratory. He
returned in a few minutes with an
apparatus similar to the one which
Saranoff had planned to use on Dr.
Bird, but larger, and with more dials
on the crystal box. At a command
from the king, Dr. Bird donned the
helmet.
The king manipulated switches
and dials. Around Dr. Bird’s head
glowed a halo of crimson light.
Twice an expression of momentary
pain passed over his countenance.
After half an hour, Astok cut off the
power and nodded to Carnes.
"Don’t try to hold anything back,
Carnesy,” said Dr. Bird sharply.
“You couldn’t if you tried, and the
process is very painful, I can assure
you.”
With the helmet on his head the
detective sat for ten minutes while
the Selom king went through his
brain. A dozen times he Bhrieked in
agony but his moments of suffering
were short. The king removed the
helmet.
“Your minds agree well,” he
thought. "Now I will examine the
mind of my friend.”
The helmet was strapped on Sark-
noff. Instantly an expression of the
utmost anguish crossed his face.
Shriek after shriek of agony came
from his writhing lips. Relentlessly
the king applied more power. The
cries of the Russian grew heartrend-
ing. Suddenly he grew rigid and
slumped forward in his chair. Astok
impassively manipulated his instru-
ment. After half an hour, he opened
the switch and removed the helmet.
Under the ministrations of Jumor
the Russian revived. The king sat
in secret thought for an hour.
"I have examined the brains of all
of you,” he announced at length,
"and I find hopeless contradictions.
Each of you believes thoroughly in
his own social order. Both tell me
of hopeless misery on the part of a
large portion of his people. Both
tell of horrible wars and suffering
beyond my comprehension. The
thoughts of all of you teem with
modes of bringing death to your fel-
low beings. Your entire science has
been perverted to the ends of destruc-
tion. Nothing of the sort can be real-
ized by the Selom where truth,
justice and mercy prevail. Each
of you holds that his form of
government is better than the
other, and will cause less suffer-
ing and misery than the others.
None of you hold out hope of hap-
piness for your fellow beings. I do
not know which system is less ob-
noxious. My decision is made. The
Selom will not interfere in the af-
fairs of the upper-earth. You may
fight out your battles without aid and
without interference.
272
ASTOUNDING STORIES
“I will operate on both Ivan Sara-
noff and Dr. Bird. I will remove
from their minds all knowledge of
our science and instruments and
leave them in the same condition that
they were when they entered my
realms. Each of you will then be re-
turned to upper-earth, Ivan Saranoff
to Russia, Dr. Bird and Mr. Carnes
to the United States. The pilots,
whom I hold prisoners, will have
their mentalities restored and be re-
turned to their homes. The planes
we have captured, I Will send off into
time so that they can) never be used
for the misery of upper-earth men
again. Jumor, you will carry out
these orders."
“X WISH I could remember how
I that time machine.was built and
operated,” said Dr. Bird reflectively,
as he sat in his private laboratory in
the Bureau of Standards some time
later, "but Jumor did his work well.
I can’t even remember what the
thing looked like.”
“Well, Doctor, our trip below
wasn’t a loss. We removed a very
real menace to the established order
of things and we have got rid of
Saranoff temporarily. It will takt
him some time to return here from
Russia.”
“Three weeks or less,” said Dr.
Bird pessimistically. "However, we
have gained one other thing. Did
you notice this?”
He pulled what looked like a watch
from his pocket. Carnes regarded it
with a puzzled expression.
“No, Doctor, what is it?”
"It is a very Bmall camera which
takes pictures one-half inch by seven-
eighths. I had several opportunities
to use it. I wasn’t sure that it would
work on such short waves, but it did.
When Saranoff tries to return to this
country, he will find that every immi-
gration inspector and every member
of the border patrol has an excellent
likeness of him. That may hinder hie
entrance into the country for a little
while.”
A CLASSIFICATION OF THE UNIVERSE
A CLASSIFICATION of everything in
the universe, from the smallest thing
yet measured, the electron, less than a
millionth of a millionth of an inch in ex-
tent, to the biggest, a star system of a
thousand million trillion miles, was de-
scribed recently by Prof. Harlow Shapley
of Harvard in a lecture at the commerce
center of the College of the City of New
York.
Looking forward to a time when man
will be able to measure even smaller
things than the electron and larger than
the greatest Btar system. Prof. Shapley
explained that he had left the classifica-
tion '‘open at both ends.”
Man, Prof. Shapley said, occupies a very
small place in all this system, although,
beside an electron or an atom, he is not so
negligible, at that.
“The survey,” it was explained, "aims
toward giving perspective. It gives a sane
and modest view of roan's place in the
scheme.
“The significance of the classification
lies in the skeleton which is afforded all
science to bring some measure of order
out of the world’s present chaotic knowl-
edge of the systems of various kinds.
"All systems find a place in this syn-
thesis — atoms, comets and galaxies; man,
radiation and the space-time complex.
When looked at in this objective way, hu-
man beings, and all associated terrestrial
organism, appear only parenthetically in
one of the subdivisions of the class of col-
lodial aggregates.”
Prof. Shapley discussed the concept of
the cosmoplasma.
"This,” it was explained, “iB at once the
most mysterious and fundamental part of
the universe, and only recently has come
under direct experimental study. In brief,
it is the substratum of materials through-
out the universe, between planets, start
and the galaxies.
“It has no obvious systematic organisa-
tion. Hence it includes such diverse con-
stituents as the high speed shooting stars,
interstellar calcium gas and radiation
itself.
“Though no one has even seen an elec-
tron, the smallest thing included in the
classification, they have been proved to
exist in several ways. They give forth
flashes of light that can be photographed.
They have caused the bending of X-rxyi
as they pass through a substance.”
Likes tl:z ' Corner "
Dear Editor:
This month’s issue, May, has the best
collection of letters you’ve ever pub-
lished. All it lacked was a letter from
Bernard J. Kenton, that master of epistles
and super-science stories. One of your
Readers would like to have "The Read-
ers’ Corner” omitted. For heaven’s sake,
don’t take it out! I recognize it as one of
the best features of cur mas, and when-
ever I open the covers, turn to it directly
after having glimpsed the table of con-
tents and the announcement of the stories
to appear in the forthcoming issue.
Mr. Joseph R. Barnes — whose letter I
enjoyed immensely, incidentally — ■‘♦rill be
interested in knowing that "The Marcot
Deep” is already in book form and that
“The Disintegration Machine” and
“When the World Screamed,” all by the
lame author, are under the same covers.
He also will be interested in learning that
Ray Cummings’ fine story, "Sea Girl,” is
alio between hard covers.
The idea of putting out a quarterly is a
dandy. The other science fiction quarter-
lies arc mere text-books; there are, occa-
sionally, of course, a few exceptions. The
thought of the sort of fantastic action
■tories Astounding Stories publishes, put
together in a magazine doubly thick, U a
pleasing one to contemplate. Reading a
story the length of "Brigands of the
Moon” and of such literary merit, com-
plete in one issue, is a thrill to be looked
forward to. By all means put out such a
magazine and have stories by Jack Wil-
liamson, R. F. Starzl and Edmond Hamil-
ton, three of your best writers, in the first
issue.
I’m glad to see that Starzl is coming
back with the next issue. More from
him, please. And Hamilton and William-
son should appear more frequently, too.
A question, Mr. Cummings: Shades of
Polter and Tugh! — why must you always
have a deformed character in your
stories? Do they appeal to your dramatic
sense?
The news that we’re going to have a
story from Francis Flagg brings raptures
of delight to my homely face. If it’s a
dimensional story, I’ll cheer twice. When
it comes to writing that kind of a story,
Flagg's the king of them all. For sheer
interest and originality, he’s got his con-
temporaries in that field outdistanced
with a distance that can only be counted
by light-years.
A pat on the back for Booth Cody and
Sears Langwell, two staunch supporters.
All our magazine needs is a story about
time crusaders, or a planet of mechanical
men
273
274
ASTOUNDING STORIES
Omitting the authors already men-
tioned, 1 consider my favorites to be
Rousseau, E ah bach, Dlffin, Ernst, and
Hal K. Wells.
The best story you ever published?
Who am I to answer? Why not put it up
to the Readers for popular vote?— •
Jerome Siegel, 10622 Kimberley Ave.,
Cleveland, Ohio.
Explanation Wanted
Dear Editor:
This is my first letter to you, but I am
a consistent Reader^ of Astounding
Stories, and look forwaid to all of the
coming issues. I have in pxlnd a question,
a friendly one, not one that I expect to or
hope will seem to be trying to dampen
any theories. This rocket-ship propul-
sion: as I understand it, there is a void
between all planets, etc. If this is the
case, how then can a rocket-propelled
space ship go across this void? Since the
exhaust of the rockets must rely on some
material of a sort, or rather some sort of
resistance to push the ship along, how
does it push on nothing? Of course, near
Earth it has the ground and then the at-
mosphere to push from, but out in the
void, why not cut off and save fuel, there-
fore saving an extra heavy load of explo-
sives, if rocket-ships were really practical
in space flying? Yours for a thicker
Astounding Stories.— H. M. Crowson, Jr.,
Sumter, S. C.
Better Than Love Stories
Dear Editor:
I have started to read the Astounding
StorieB and enjoy it very much, although
I do not find very many girls writing in to
the “Corner.” This mag is a thousand
times better than all those love story
magaaines, and besides these stories are
educational.
I would rather read Astounding Stories
than eat. They are not too scientific to be
boresome, but they are just good enough
to be real interesting.
I wish you would publish some more
stories like “The Lake of Light,” “Dark
Moon,” etc. I especially like stories of
the future and interplanetary novels.
Anyone wishing to correspond with me
will be welcome, as I love to write let-
ters, and especially to anyone interested
in the same things that I am.— (Miss)
Bernice Goldberg, 147 Crescent Drive,
Mason City, Iowa.
Kidding the Editor
Dear Editor:
I have just finished your January, 1932,
issue of Astounding Stories. It was
superb. 1
Imagine my delight and surprise when
I purchased the first issue this year!
Smooth edges! Good quality of paper! I
had a few other articles to purchase but I
forgot all about them when I saw your
magaxlne and rushed home to read it.
It had a most admirable cover desicu
by your best artist, H. W. Wesso. I
turned to the Contents Page. The first
story was by my favorite author, Ray
Cummings, and called “The Space Car to
Mars.” Hot dog! My favorite theme, la.
terplanetary travel.
All the rest of the Authors were my
favorites too! Edmond Hamilton, Cant
S. P. Meek, S. P. Wright. A. J. Burks and
a short story by Jack Williamson.
I turned to the next pages and lo and
behold, what do I see but an editorial.
Wonders after wonders! It was called
“The Possibilities of Space Travel” I
was by this time beginning to think that
at last the Editor had achieved a perfect
magazine, and when I turned to the first
story, the one by Ray Cummings, I knew
it. There was a double-page illustration
by Wesso in soft and realistic colors!
Think of it! Colored illustrations for
each story!
Well, l was so excited that I could
hardly read, but at laBt I began. Boy, con
Ray Cummings write Interplanetary
stories! Y comol (And how!) He wove
scientific explanations into the story so
very skillfully that one learned the scien-
tific facts without knowing it. When he
thought that the explanation of some in-
vention would be boresome, he put a lit-
tle note at the foot of the page. This, I
remembered, was an admirable feature in
his story “Brigands of the Moon,” which
you published two years ago.
I then turned to r ‘The Readers' Corner"
only to discover that its name had been
changed to “The Observatory.” (I expect
this name was taken from the suggestion
of P. Leadbeater in the March, 1931,
issue.) I discovered also, to my delight,
that at the end of each letter the Editor
made a few comments. I finished reading
the Readers’ letters and on the next page
I found this leadline: “Science Questions
and Answers.” I read these with en-
thusiasm.
I forgot to mention the raise In die
price to twenty-five cents, but that is Im-
material to me now since I have the per-
fect science fiction magazine. You have
surely hitched your wagon (magazine) to
a star now!— Clay Ferguson, Jr., BIO
Park St. S. W., Roanoke, Va.
Sugar Candy
Dear Editor:
It is very seldom that I write to any %
E age like “The Readers' Corner” but I
ave gotten rather tired of all those
knocks. So I am writing to say that I
have missed only one of your issues since
the second, (Feb., 1930) and have found
only one not to my liking, and I have for-
gotten what that Is.
I have no comment to make on your
Authors. I don’t care who writes it or
what his literary reputation is— as long
THE READERS’ CORNER
275
aa the story is good; and you wouldn’t
print it if it weren’t.
As for exact scientific data— away with
it. Some may wish to be bored with it,
but I prefer action. I like your pictures.
They are bizarre and give one an idea of
what the Author is trying to convey. And
they intrigue the interest before the stoiy
is read. I also like the size, because it is
not awkward, and I like the edges because
they make the pages easy to turn.— Mrs.
Hargaret M. Phinney, 1632 W. 3rd, Plain*
field, N. J.
“ Becoming a Habit 5 "
Dear Editor:
The May Astounding Stories seems to
have nothing but complimentary letters in
it Mr. Magnuson probably tore out his
hair when he saw all those letters. Not
that Astounding Stories fully deserves all
that praise. As one Reader Baid, words
are Inadequate to describe how wonderful
your magazine is; however, I do not agree
with those who denounce some of the
Headers for making criticisms and bur*
gestions. No magazine can be absolutely
perfect, although Astounding Stories
comes pretty near it. Even if it were per-
fect, the Readers would have to keep on
making criticisms and suggestions in or-
der to keep it that way. Besides, “The
Headers' Corner** would become pretty
dull and lifeless if you printed nothing
but flattering letters. Most of the Read-
ers who make unfavorable criticisms
really have the welfare of the magazine
In mind, else they wouldn't write at all.
All of them aren't grouches. For example :
a certain person sent one of the Science
Fiction magazines about the most vicious
and uncomplimentary letter that maga-
zine had ever received. Yet in this issue
of Astounding Stories he jumps on the
knockers for daring to 6ay anything
against Astounding Stories I So you see
that all knockers are not hopeless!
I notice that you have complied with
one of my requests, and have published an
autobiography of Mr. Wentzler, although
there is no picture. Perhaps, as Mr.
Wentzler suggests, that is for the best.
The readers of Astounding Stories are
accustomed to pictures of grotesque and
weird-looking inhabitants of other plan-
ets, but a picture of Mr. Wentzler may
prove to be too much. Or, if you do put it
In, you might entitle it “Wesso’s Concep-
tion of a Martian.”
I hope Mr. Wentzler does not take the
above paragraph too seriously. Like him,
I was nit on the head when I was but a
babe. In my case, it was a bronze statue
that proved to be my undoing. Unfortu-
nately, they were never able to straighten
ont the bend in that statue, which was the
result of its contact with my dome.
Aa for the stories in the May issue,
they were all perfect, every one of them.
Having all the stories perfect in each
issue is becoming a habit with you. Keep
up this habit. For first place 1 nominate^
‘'When the Moon Turned Green.” I con-
sidered Mr. Wells' previous story, “The
Gate to Xoran” the best short story you
had ever printed, but the later one sur-
passes it. You will not be making a mis-
take if you give us many more stories by
this Author. I do not need to say anything
else about the rest of the stories — they
are all excellent.
Don’t you think that it is about time
for Astounding Stories to become a semi-
monthly? — Michael Fogaris, 157 Fourth
Street, Passaic, N. J.
Located at Last
Dear Editor:
1 read every Science Fiction magazine
on the market, and can truthfully say that
yours is the best of them all.
Of course, there is always room for im-
f irovement, and some of the stories pub-
ished in the May issue were not so hot.
Meek always gives me a pain in the neck,
but Cummings is an ace, though the in-
stallment in this issue dragged consider-
ably. In Diffin you have a master writer;
and I was tickled to death to see finally in
“our” mag a story by that peerless team,
Schachner and Zagat.
I was wondering how long it would take
you to locate them, aa you have done with
most of the other stars in Science Fiction.
—Bill Merriam, Ocean Front, Venice,
Cal.
" Stories Aid Considerably ”
Dear Editor:
I cannot rightfully Bay what Btory was
the best in Astounding Stories. For the 1
man who balances stones for their values
is just kidding himself. That is my theory
and I am ready at all times to stand in
back of it.
Though I have only been reading
Astounding Stories since January, I am
a thoroughly convinced fan. For the past
two years I have been puttering with
chemistry and physics in a laboratory of
my own, and the science mentioned in
these storieB aids considerably.
I would sincerely appreciate letters
from Readers of Astounding Stories. I
will answer all.— Lawrence Schumaker,
1020 Sharon St., Janesville, Wis.
To the Rescue , Somebody /
Dear Editor:
You’re getting better all the time. The
April number was the best yet, and the
May issue is not far behind it. The cover
on the Hay issue was wonderful.
“Dark Moon” is the best story by Dif-
fin that you have yet printed. “When the
Moon Turned Green” and “The Death
Cloud'* are both masterpieces.
“The Exile of Time** is a fine story, but
I cannot understand the explanations.
How could the murder of Major Atwood
be mentioned in the records of New
York? Why could not one see events in
276
ASTOUNDING STORIES
which he participated? Of course, Ray
Cummings perhaps knowt more about it
than I, but I think a lot of his ideas are
the bunk.
I do not think that your stories should
be full of science and nothing else, but
they should at least ^observe known scien-
tific facts.— J. J. Johnston, Mowbray,
Man., Can.
A "Two-Timer**
Dear Editor:
I was surprised but pVeascd to receive
the answer to the question 1 asked in my
letter t <f you. It is indeed a pleasure to
read a magazine that takes enough inter-
est In its patrons to personally answer a
letter written to it. Thank you very
much.
And I am certainly glad that we are to
? et a sequel to “Dark Moon.**' I wish that
could personally tell Mr. Diffin what I
think of his writing.
I am anxiously awaiting the next issue
of “our mag.” It certainly does seem a
long time between issues. When are you
going to start putting it on the stands
twice a month? I know that thousands of
Readers would bless the day you did it.
Please keep up the good work; and I
know you will, for the longer I read A. S.
the more I enjoy it.
The serial, “The Exile of Time,** is a
story par excellence. But I know the
forthcoming sequel to “Dark Moon” will
be a Buper-story.
My idea of reading is that if a story is
worth reading once it is worth reading
twice, and 1 have never seen any story in
your book that was not worth reading
once. Nuff said.
I will answer any letters written me. I
hope to hear from plenty of Readers.—
C. G. Davis, 531 S. Millard, Chicago, III.
And Seqtfel It Has
Dear Editor:
I have just finished the May number of
Astounding Stories, and want to send ray
contribution to "The Readers’ Corner.”
The novelette, “Dark Moon," by Diffin,
is rather an outstanding story, In my opin-
ion. It is plausible and convincing, and
the literary quality la high. I have a feel-
ing that this should have a sequel, and
wonder if others will not agree with me.
That Astounding Stories is the best of
the Science Fiction Magazines Is some-
thing that scarcely lends Itself to argu-
ment. Without question, it leads them all.
Take the present number for instance:
Diffin, Meek and Cummings, three top-
not chert, all in one Issue. — A. J. Hams,
1628 Bushnell Ave., South Pasadena, Cal.
I'm Afraid Not
Dear Editor:
I have read every one of your
Astounding Stories and think there is no
other magazine on the market like It.
Only one kick; it doesn’t appear often
enough. I should like to see it every
week; every two weeks, anyway. I like
every story you print, and I think the size
of your magazine is perfect. I have saved
very issue 1 read, and now have seventeen
of them.
“Phalanxes of Atlans** and “Marooned
Under the Sea** were especially good.
“The Readers' Corner” is fine, but I don’t
like so many brickbats thrown. I should
like to see more bouquets given to you.
There is one thing I’d like to see you
f rint. You probably have heard of the
ox Movietone picture, “Just Imagine”
an interplanetary story of 1980. I'd like
to see it printed in Astounding Stories
more than anything else. It would make
a fine serial. I don't suppose it would be
possible for you to print it, though,
would it? — Ernestine Small, 1151 Brigh-
ton Ave., Portland, Ore.
Better to Verse
Dear Editor:
Astounding Stories can’t be beat;
Its every issue is a treat.
The finest authors of the age
Appear upon Astoupding’s stage.
There’s Diffin, Cummings, Leinster,
Burks;
An all-star cast that’s sure the works.
Harl Vincent, Wells, and Starzl, too,
Belong among this famous crew.
Ed Hamilton and Vic Rousseau
With Captain Meek complete the
show. *
Together they are sore the best ;
That’s why Astounding leads the rest!
— Booth Cody, Bronx, N. Y.
Another " Two-Timer "
Dear Editor:
I have just finished reading the May
issue of Astounding Stories for the sec-
ond time. I have been reading Astounding
Stories for over a year, and ao far I can
find only one thing wrong with it, and that
is that it is not thick enough. In other
words, yon do not put enough stories
in it. |
Some people who write In to the “Cor-
ner” say that the papsy is rotten. I still
have all my magazine^, and the paper is
as good as new. The paper is also good
on the eyes, as it does not reflect light
like a mirror, as some paper does. Some
people say the pages are uneven and hard
to turn. Like Mr. H. N. Snager, I become
so Interested in the stories I do not no-
tice such trifles. Anybody who yells about
the color of the cover, the durability of
the paper, is not very Interested In
Astounding Stories.
Why don’t you either print a full page
picture at the beginning of each story or
else keep the half page picture at the be-
ginning and put another picture halfway
through the story? — Wm. McCalvy, 1244
Beech St., St. Paul, Minn.
THE READERS’ CORNER
277
A Buttercup for Paul
Dear Editor: \
Congratulations! Astounding Stories
hu scored agam! Not satisfied with
fflmtntions by the mighty Wesso only,
«ou have secured a drawing by the equal-
ly mighty Paul ! May we see many more
by him?— Thomas L. Kratzer, 3598 Tulla-
more Rd., Cleveland Heights, Ohio.
Serves Now Better?
Dear Editor:
In Gould you have a fine illustrator; in
Wesso a better one, but as I skip the
a ;e on which the story, a truly remark-
e one by R. F. Starzl, “The Earth-
man’s Burden” is on, my eye is caught by
.yes! a drawing by Paul, good old, reli-
able Mr. Paul, the king of Science Fiction
fllnstrators. Now that you have him on
yonr artist’s staff I wouldn't feel at all
bed seeing a painting of his on the cover.
The Tune issue was a dazzler. “Manape
the Mighty” held me spellbound. Tne
others were all excellent stories. The
cover painting by Wesso was good, but I
have already seen one of that sort in a
previous issue. Why not give us more in-
terplanetary illustrations of space ships
and the like as in “Brigands of tne
Moon”?
Another thing, it is nine-thirty. I must
be asleep by eleven-thirty in order to
start for school early the next morning.
I allow myself two hours in which to read
Astounding Stories. I turn to the con-
tents section; 1 see a story there which I
wish to read. It is on pagfc 604. I turn the
pages; 609, 601, 607 come in rapid suc-
cession, all but the page I look for. This
goes on for some time until at last the
roughened edge of 604 comes into view.
By then my nerveB are on edge and I find
it is almost eleven-thirty!
But I cannot say that you do not stand
up with the foremost of all magazines,
and the way you are improving now you’ll
soon forge far in front. — Arthur Berko-
witr, 768 Beck St., New York City.
Some Goal!
Dear Editor:
Permit me to congratulate Mr. Diffin
on his latest masterpiece, “Holocaust.”
Every once in a while Mr. Diffin pro-
duces a story that bids fair to eclipse all
its contemporaries. His former story,
“The Power and the Glory,” could also
be placed in that category. Somehow,
that story has become indelibly written
on my memory. The philosophy expressed
in it was overwhelming. It would have
done justice to a Shakespeare.
And now, you can imagine how delight-
ed I am to learn that Mr. Diffin has once
more graced us with a yarn of the same
dasa.
Man, if you continue to publish such
stories as thepe frequently, you’ll have
the public terming Astounding Stories
literature of the highest grade! However,
I won't entreat Mr. Diffin to write these
storieB spasmodically, as the long wait
between tales adds lure to the stones.
And now for Mr. Burks. Ah— here is
an extraordinary chap! Mr. Burks is your
most versatile author. Of his several
Btories, each has opened up a new vista in
the field of Science Fiction, and he is a
thoroughbred in each endeavor. If you
want to be convinced, read the opening
chapters of “Manape The Mighty,” ana
I will wager any sum you won't lay down
the story until you’ve read every word.
As a matter of fact, all the stories are
good. And the bill for next month appears
to be exceptionally unusual. It is very
evident that you are on the road to per-
fection. Smooth cut edges, the acquisi-
tion of the greatest of artists, Paul, all
point to the accelerating progress
Astounding Stories is achieving.
We Readers are frequently asked as to
how we would run the magazine if we
were Editors. Well, here is my concep-
tion of the ideal magazine:
Smooth paper, no advertisements what-
soever, the interior illustrations done by
an artist with the talent of a Paul and a
Wesso combined, and made in water col-
ors, too. Then I would only have such
renowned Authors as Burroughs, Mac-
Isaac and a few others. I suppose that’s
the eternal dream of the modem Editor,
but who can say that you, Mr. Bates,
won’t evolve Astounding Stories in the
same manner. At any rate, there’s a goal
to aim for.— Mortimer Weisinger, 266
Van Cortlandt Ave., Bronx, N. Y.
Guilty
Dear Editor:
You are hereby summoned to appear in
Court on attempt of murder. Following
are the charges: Stopping my heart from
beating when I saw the smooth edges in
Astounding Stories, and making my heart
miss five beats when I saw “The Earth-
man’s Burden” illustrated by Paul I
I now think Astounding Stories has
reached its highest peak. Arthur J. Burks’
story was a wow. I hope he works on a
story aB he said he would in “The Read-
ers* Corner” if he gets enough requests.
And Charles Willard Diffin! Here's a
writer for you. I think the first story he
ever wrote wsb published in Astounding
Stories. Don’t lose him. His “Holocaust 7 * t
is his best, with the probable exception of'*
"The Power and the Glory.” I don’t thinx -
the last mentioned ever got enough
praise. I expect to see it reprinted some
day in The Golden Book Magazine. It’s
distinctly smooth paper style.
And of course Sewell Peaslee Wright’s
"John Hanson” stories are top-notchers.
And Ray Cummings. Must we mention
his story? We all know what to expect
when we read one of his stories. I hope
you have another serial by him soon.
I’m sure you’ll be deluged with letters
278
ASTOUNDING STORIES
because of the even edges apd the illustra-
tion by Paul (who should draw at least
two in every issue), but I hope youll
print my letter, because I never had a let-
ter of mine in print, and want to get a
thrill seeing this published. — Antnony
Caserta, 4575 Park Ave. f New York,
N, Y.
" Very Pretty Problems flere"
Dear Editor:
The letters by P. Schuyler, J. N. Mos-
leh, and Jackson Gee in the last number
sure do raise some very neat possibilities
in Science. Anent travel in time, just
what would you, Mr. Schuyler, expect to
see if “John Doe” at 40 years (1931) went
back to 1892 and met “John Doe” of that
date on Main Street of his old home
town? I suspect that two bodies cannot
simultaneously contain the same ego,
constant -entity, personality,' or soul.
Which brings me to Mr. Mosleh, to
ask: Just how i9 the self- real izant ego,
which is conscious that “I am I” un-
changingly for life, In any sense a deriva-
tive of the unstable, rapidly changing
body?
Mr. Burks and Mr. Lee elucidate a very
pretty little problem on the same lines.
The cranial transplantation and the
“atomic patterns” are admittedly scien-
tifically and reasonably possible. But
there is a real point of doubt: Would the
personality accompany the brain in trans-
plantation? True, the brain is the control
room; but—?
And would the "atomic patterns” per-
fectly as they could duplicate a body,
which is unstable by nature, work on the
essentially stable ego (relatively) with ita
inherent capacity for continuity?
If not, would not the synthetic “Extra
Man” be a human being minus person-
ality? Some very pretty problems here.
I’d much like to see a story along the
lines of item 3 in Mr. Burks’ letter.— L.
Partridge, Box 84, Cornish, Me.
What Price Smoothness?
Dear Editor:
I have just finished the June issue of
Astounding Stories. The cover was excel-
lent, as were all the illustrations, except
perhaps Manape’s arms should have been
a little larger.
I see that the edges of the paper are
now smooth, but still the leaves Btick out
beyond one another, so what good docs
that do?
“Manape the Mighty,” by Arthur J.
Burks, was superb, gripping. I suppose a
lot of Readers will rise violently against
the love interest, but, I ask you, just
where would this particular story be with-
out the romance in it? This particular
story, you understand ; not every story.
“Holocaust,” /by Charles Willard Dif-
fin, was next best, with “The Man from
2071” a close second.
“The Earthman’s Burden” was at least
entertaining, which this installment of
“The Exile of Time” was not.— Robert
Baldwin, 359 Haxel Ave., Highland Park,
Time Trouble Answers Wanted
Dear Editor:
I have read your magazine for nearly
two years, but this is my first letter to the
“Corner.” The first and second install-
ments of Ray Cummings’ “Exile of Time”
prompted me to write this. There is t
story you can well be proud of. I should
like to obtain it in! book form. Mr. Cum-
mings is a wonder. I have read many
time stories, but his is at the top of my
list.
If there is any other “time” fan ia
A S.’s “Readers’ Corner” I should like to
have a letter discussion on it with him.
Nope of my acquaintances eare a whoop
abbut that type of story, so I have to
thrash out all my problems by myself.
There are some questions I would like
to ask about “The Exile of Time.”
1— In the event of the appearance of
the time-traveling cage, the story ran, to
use Ray’a own words: “Suddenly before
me there was a white ghost. A shape. A
wraith of something which a moment be-
fore had not been there. The shape was
like a milt. Then in a second or two it
was solid.”
Why should the cage appear as a mist
at first? If there is any amount of time*
separating two things, those two things
are invisible to each other, are they not?
Any amount of time would include a sec-
ond, and even a millionth part of a sec-
ond. In that case, the cage should sud-
denly appear in the twinkling of an eye,
wjth no trace of a blur.
2 — Supposing I were standing at a spot
five feet from a time- traveling vehicle.
The latter would be traveling through
time at 3 P. M., while I am at 2 P. M.—
an hour’a difference between us. It would
be Invisible to me then, but an hour later
when I would be at 3 P. M. and the ma-
chine at 4 P. M., then I would see it as it
appeared at 3 P. M. Whatever movement
it would make in space, I would not ses
until an hour later. Is that right? Then
is it not possible that each individual is
existing in a different time realm? And
we aee them, or I see the other fellow as
he appeared when my time caught up
with his? I had better quit before I get
hooted off the stage.
J— If a man invented a time-traveler
and went back to the year of the begin-
ning of the World War, knowing all be
has read in history, could he not take
steps to prevent a war that has already
happened? Or would that power be denied
him? Somewhere in the story it said<hat
the past cannot be changed, and that any
effort to do so would be useless. In my
belief, no matter where or when a tnsn
goes into the past, if he appears in a
year or day that has already gone by, be
THE READERS’ CORNER
279
is changing the past. Then there Bhould
be no room for doubt: time-traveling is
impossible. It never will be done (An
Astounding Stories fan should be kicked
for using the word "impossible" I).
Let’s nave more good thought-provok-
ing time tales. And get lots of stories
from Cummings— he’s a wow. . I sure
would like to spend an evening at a camp-
fire with him. — Allen Spoolman, 613 — 4th
Avenue. W., Ashland, Wise.
••Eh, Wbatr
Dear Editor:
Just got my June issue of our sood
mag. Astounding Stories, and I that
it is great. One thing you should do,
however, is have a more mechanical cover
design.
In regard to Miss Gertrude Hemkin’s
letter in the June issue of A. S., let me
iay that I just wonder what she would
like to expect in our "The Readers’ Cor-
ner" if she does not like to hear what
others think of our Astounding Stories.
Maybe she would like to read about
checker debates or the like. Eh. what?
If Rex Wertz of Oregon, who is now
located Bomewhcre in Los Angeles, will
drop me a line, perhaps we can become
acquainted as he suggested.— Edward
Anderson, 123 HolliBter Ave., Ocean
Park, Cal.
Hope He Does
Dear Editor:
I have never been interested before in
a magazine enough to write to their de-
partments, like "The Readers’ Corner”
and I have read plenty of magazines.
“Beyond the Vanishing Point” stands
bead and shoulders above any Btory I have
ever read. I have only one thing to say
about your other stories: they are almost
as good as the one I just mentioned.
I have a few words to say about these
people who throw brickbats at every
itory they read. I wouldn’t be surprised
if they just the read the story so they
could find something wrong with it.
There’s one in particular who wrote a
few lines in the June issue about your
taking the word ,7 science” off the front
page, saying there was no science in the
magazine, anyway. What does the title
•ayr Well, that’s what 90 7c of the Read-
ers want, anyway. I hope that chap reads
this.
Well, I’ll sign off. Here is a little toast
to the magazine: “Long may it live.”—
Earl Rogers, 409— 16th St., Grlveston.
Tex.
Two, Better Than One ?
Dear Editor:
i The two outstanding stories In the May
iaaue of A. S. were “The Death Cloud,
by Nat Schachncr and Arthur L. Zagat,
and “Dark Moon,” by Charles W. Diffin.
Common reasoning tells me that the heads
of two Science Fiction writers can
formulate a story better than one. I
couldn’t help admire Mr. Schachner and
Mr. Zagat when I read their story be-
cause of the cleverness shown in it.
Please give us a story by them every
month. — Ray Y. Tilford, Rockport, Ky.
“And Here I Am”
Dear Editor:
It’s about time for me to concede that
your or “our” magazine is the Best I have
read. Ten issues have come into my
hands and I am perfectly well satisfied
with the line of fiction that you publish.
I have read about fifty different maga-
zines on the market, and I am sure that
Astounding Stories is ths best of them all.
I have followed the magazine for seven
months and that is the best amount of
reading any magazine can boast for me.
In your case, if the magazine lasts sev-
enty years, you can be sure that I will
read it for that period of time (provided
I live that long).
I notice that several brickbats have
come into your hand3 and that you have
printed them. Well, that shows sports-
manship on your part. I would suggest to
those who are not s?iisf::d with Astound-
ing Stories to du.k t..eir head in a pail of
water and pull it out after a pe. iod of ten
minutes. Those who criticize the stories
because of the lack of science have r.n
idea what It takes to write a story.
Please be willing to concede the Author
the right of way. He is giving his theories
and not yours. However, in Borne cases
where the truth is an established fact, I
can see where the Readers may present a
justified argument. But they should re-
member that we are not all perfect and
that mistakes are made by all. It is not
fair to criticize an Author by denouncing
him.
I don’t favor reprints at all, but I can
stay with the majority if they do. It is
a foregone conclusion that you can fool
some of the people some of the time, but
you can’t fool all of the people all the
time. In this case substitute the word
“please” in the saying for “fool.”
I am at present reading Charles W.
Diffin’s novel, “The Pirate Planet.” It is
one of the best interplanetary novels that
I have ever read. Give us some more of
Diffin: he has the goods. I must say that
you have an immensely long list of popu-
lar authors, and it must cost quite a little
amount of money to maintain them.
Kec^ the size of the magazine as it Is
now. ,.t fits conveniently into my book-
case, and I believe many of your Readers
will say the same.
Now some of my favorite stories. “The
Ape-Men of Xlotli” was one of the best
stories that I have read in years. Give us
some more along this line. It offers rest
after one has just finished reading an in-
terplanetary novel.
’Monsters of Moyen” was another
story that I greatly enjoyed. Very few
280
ASTOUNDING STORIES
people believe that the world Bhall ever
have a conqueror again, and I am one of
them; but It la interesting to see if there
ever will be a conqueror and what means
he shall employ to get that title.
“Brigadds of the Moon*' was the worst
story I read in your magazine. That must
have been Mr. Cummings’ off story. But
he certainly has come back fine through
his later storieB.
"The Tentacles from Below" was an-
other great masterpiece. Anthony Gil-
more’s tale was the first that I have read
of that author, and I will be delighted to
see more.
Funny how I developed into a Reader
of Science Fiction. I exhausted all other
fields of reading and having nothing else
to read I delved into a science magazine
and here I am.— Michael Racano, 51
Brookwood St., East Orange, N. J.
Turns to It First
Dear Editor:
The June issue of Astounding Stories
can’t be beat. What an issue! As it
seems to be the usual thing. I’ll start at
the front and go to the back.
The cover: very colorful; another
proof of WeBSo’s talent. And speaking of
artists, I was very pleasantly surprised at
the unexpected illustration by Paul. I
certainly hope you can get him, if not for
cover pictures, at least for the inside
illustrations. (Too bad you are modest
about printing complimentary letters, for
I mean this to be all roses, no brickbats.)
“The Man from 2071" — another good
story of "John Hanson’s.” “Manape the
Migh ty,” although somewhat like the
Tarzan series, is a wonderfully fine story.
“Holocaust" — goodL "The Earthman's
Burden,” as all of Starzl’s, was excep-
tionally good. “The Exile of Time" —
getting better every issue.
“The Readers’ . Corner" as usual was
one of the most interesting parts of the
magazine. I always turn to it first, for
I know I will have an enjoyable time
reading every letter. And, by the way, the
significance of “Manape*’ just came to
me. Don’t know why I didn’t see it be-
fore. — Linus Hogenmiller, 502 N. Wash-
ington St., Farmington, Mo.
Likes the “Joke”
Dear Editor:
Although I have read onlv two issues
of Astounding Stories, I feel the urge to
write a line. The June number was bet-
ter than the May issue. Arthur J. Burks’
story, "Manape the Mighty,” was excel-
lent, though I am not so strong for the
idea of having Barter escape the apes and
carry on his experiments as suggested by
the Author. It would be against common
sense to have the apes allow him to make
a getaway. The prize winner in the May
issue was “Dark Moon.” There might be
a sequel to that, and I’d like to, see it.
I like a little variety in a magazine.
The Readers who say they do not care for
stories scientifically impossible may be
right ; in that case “The Exile of Time" is
the greatest joke ever written — yet I like
it immensely. One thing that is impossi-
ble is the destruction of matter. It can
be broken up, or condensed as in "When
Caverns Yawned," but not destroyed com-
pletely.
Mr. W. H. Flowers evidently has a
grudge against the fair sex. The love in-
terest is not necessary in short stories,
it’s true; but what kind of a long novel
would it be if the hero had no incentive,
nothing to risk his life for, except a pot-'
sible word of praise from the scientific
world?
No matter how much a man love6 his
work it is ray opinion that he would not
die for the purpose of proving his point
Not being able to take a hint, the
knockers still appear to mar an otherwise
perfect day — this time in the person of
Harry Pancoast. If Astounding Stories
ever gets so bad that not even one Btory
in it is of interest to me— I'll just drop
out of the waiting line- a nd keep mv
mouth closed. — Richard Waite, 8 South
Ave., Warsaw, N. Y.
Never Noticed That
Dear Editor:
Just bought my latest copy of Astound-
ing Stories, and what an edition I First,
the cover (Wesso has all others beat by
a mile). Then, the stories. Well, take
"Manape the Mighty": it is one of the
best Science Fiction stories I have ever
read. “The Exile of Time" was great.
Have you ever noticed that almost
every critic of Science Fiction Is either
a teacher or a female? Jim Nicholson
and I certainly know that.— Billy Roche,
Sec. Interplanetary Dept, of the B. S. B„
101 St. Elmo, San Francisco, Cal.
SunBowers for AJI
Dear Editor:
Miracles do happen! I was never so
thoroughly astounded in all my life ai
when I received the great June issue or
“our” magazine with straight edges 1
Thank you and all concerned For publish-
ing "our" magazine sans rough edges.
The smooth edges ought to cut the read-
ing time of Astounding Stories down to
an hour and forty-five minutes as we al-
ways used to waste a lot of time fumbling
about with the pages.
But if I was astounded at the long
awaited straight edges, 1 was still more
amazed at the great innovation of 1 an
illustration by Paul ! Let’s have more and
more of his remarkable drawings.
Astounding Stories is truly great now
with its fine Editor, splendid Authors, ex-
cellent stories, worthy illustrations
essential “Readers’ Comer,” Paul (Ahl)
and good binding! Yes I You heard
right! I said: good binding! Of course U
makes amusing material to write about
THE READERS* CORNER
281
the binding and remark that it comes off
after oncenandling it, or that the paper is
toon worn to shreds, but such matters
ahouldn’t be honestly believed. I have
every issue of Astounding Stories (eight-
een great numbers I ) and each and every
iuue is as good as new. I have never had
any trouble with the covers departing
from the rest of the magazine or the
oases becoming moldy.
Sewell Peaslee Wright’s “The Man
from 2071” is just perfect. I enjoy noth-
ing more than one of his realistic stories
of Commander John Hanson. We want
more! Arthur J. Burks’ novelette, “Man-
ape the Mighty,” was clever. I had a pre-
monition that I wouldn’t like this story,
and in fact told a friend so. It just goes
to prove that hunches can be wrong.
Charles Willard Diffin should be proud of
his “Holocaust.” I’m sure that most
Readers enjoyed it as much as I did. Of
course, Starzl’s “The Earthman's Bur-
den” was a peach. His stories of other
planets are always weird, bizarre, and yet
they seem to ring true. That is the magic
of R. P. Starzl 1 Paul illustrated it in nis
own unapproachable style. “The* Exile of
Time," as everyone agrees, is Cummings'
best. I am waiting for its thrilling con-
clusion.
I am one who would like Astounding
Stories to be a large size magazine, but it
can easily be seen that everyone can't be
pleased. If you'll just leave it the way it
is— i. e., straight edges, illustrations by
Paul, same authors and same excellent
Editor — I’ll be satisfied.— Forrest J. Ack-
erman, 530 Staples Ave., San Francisco,
Cal
"Great Relief ”
Dear Editor:
The story, “Manape the Mighty, 1 * by
Arthur J. Burks, was by far one of the
most thrilling and educational stories that
ever appeared in Astounding Stories. Of
course, others will disagree, but an
Author cannot please all. It is of great
relief to change from the monotonous
every day kind of stories that appear in
Collier’s, Liberty and The Saturday Eve-
ning Post to the refreshing and soothing
’impossible” type of A S.
Ever since the January issue, I've been
an ardent pursuer of Astounding Stories.
To me it is even more astounding that I
leem to like it more and more each suc-
ceeding issue. I find it, undoubtedly, the
best magazine of its type. I’ve tried
others, of similar type, but it seems as if
r»y mind couldn’t grasp the knack of
their stories, which were either boresome
with scientific and technical explanations,
or, as one might say, “not a darn thing to
them.”
R. F. Starzl is a wonderful author. Ray
Cummings, Sewell Peaslee Wright,
Charles Willard Diffin, Captain S. P.
Meek, Edmond Hamilton, F. V. W.
Mason and Murray Leinster are excellent.
There is one thing that I'd like to see
in Astounding Stories, and I’m sure many
of the Readers would, too. It is always
my habit to read while eating. To finish
the story in time, I pick the shortest one.
Sad to say, Astounding has rather long
stories. How about an occasional short
story? I’m sure your readers will
approve. They would go over with a
bang! — P. Nikolaioff, 4825 S Seeley Ave.,
Chicago, 111. *
Sometimes Gets Mad
Dear Editor:
Although I have been an interested
reader of Astounding Stories since its in-
ception. tips is the first time I have writ-
ten. Astounding Stories have been so good
lately that 1 just had to write and compli-
ment you on your good work. There are,
however, some criticisms I have to make.
The first is: I think Mr. W. H. Flowers
of Pittsburgh, Pa., is right when he says
you sometimes have too much love in
some of your stories. The second is, I
think it would be a good thing to put
notes at the end of a page to explain some
of the terms for the Readers who read
mostly for the science part. That is what
I do, and I get mad when I read some-
thing that does not give me the inside
dope on it. Outside of that I think
Astounding Stories can’t be beat.
One more thing before I close. Keep
Capt. S. P. Meek on your staff or I will
stop reading Astounding Stories, as much
as I would hate to do that. I think he is
your best author by a long shot.— Wilson
Adams, Seat Pleasant, Md.
From a "Female Woman “
Dear Editor:
The comment of Jim Nicholson in the
June issue that it is only “the females”
who consider him “cracked” for reading
Science Fiction, and only women who do
not care for science In the stories, moves
me to break into “The Readers’ Corner”
for the first time.
I happen to be a “female woman,” and
it is the men in our family and circle of
friendB who laugh at me for buying every
Science Fiction magazine and book that I
can find. They call them my “nutty maga-
zines.” I have to admit that I do not un-
derstand much of the scientific explana-
tion, since my mind does not run along
mathematical or scientific lines, but I do
mind having that in stories, for those who
do care for it and, can understand it, as I
can simply skip over it, taking what I can
grasp and letting the rest go. It doesn’t
spoil the story for me.
I have no criticism, constructive or
otherwise, to make. I enjoy the stories
with some romance involved, and enjoy
those without equally well. My own
preference would be that you continue
using rough paper and your present me-
chanical construction, so that more money
282
ASTOUNDING STORIES
will be available to pay for the stories.
Few of us keep the magazines anyway, so
there isn't so much need for expensive
apcr, I like interplanetary stories best,
think; but I was intensely interested in
“Beyond the Vanishing Point/’ “Manape
the Mighty” and “Holocaust.” All differ-
ent, but all very good. I can't remember
one I did not like.
My work requires much study and con-
centration. I have recommended to sev-
eral men who do similar mental work that
they follow mv plan of securing delight-
ful relaxation by losing themselves in an-
other world through Science Fiction mag-
azines. Most of them find it as restful as
I do.— ^Berenice M. Harrison, Angola, Ind.
Like! R. F. StarzI^i
Dear Editor:
It has been my purpose to write to you
before, but due to an extraordinary
amount of detail work which I have had
to do, I have been unable to.
I have read your marvelous magazine
ever Bince the first issue came into my
hands, and I can honestly Bay that there is
no other book on the market which has
held my attention as long as yours has.
1 congratulate you on your very interest-
ing magazine.
Arthur J. Burks, In his latest story, has
conceived an entirely new type of story,
and I, for one, think it very interesting.
Plenty of science for the laymen and
enough interest for the others.
I liked R. F. Starzl’s story, “The
Earthman’s Burden,” very much, and I
hope you will have more by this author
soon. His stories are perfect. Starzl ii a
deep thinker, and I am right here to say
that there is a man who understands men
and men's longihgs and inhibitions.— A.
W. Go wing, 17 Pasadena St, Springfield,
Mass.
“The Reader s* Corner”
A1! readers are extended a sin-
cere and cordial invitation to “come
over in ‘The Readers* Corner' " and
join in our monthly discussion of
Btories, authors, scientific principles
and possibilities — everything that's
cf common interest in connection
with our Astounding Stories.
Although from time to time the
Editor may make a comment or so,
this is a department primarily for
Readers , and we want you to make
full use of it. Likes, dislikes, criti-
cisms, explanations, roses, brickbats,
suggestions — everything’s welcome
here ; so “come over in ‘The Readers'
Corner'" and discuss it with all of>
ust
The Editor \
A LIVING, DISEMBODIED HEART
A DISEMBODIED heart, not only still
steadily beating but writing, as it
throbbed, a permanent, minutely precise
record of its pulsations, was exhibited re-
cently at Princeton in a demonstration of
the newest instrument developed by sci-
ence for the advancement of medicine and
psychology.
The device. Invented by A. L. Loomis
of Tuxedo Park, N. Y., and perfected in
collaboration with Dr. Edmund N. Har-
vey, professor of psychology at Prince-
ton University, is called the Loomis chro-
nograph.
It will facilitate study of the phenomena
of heart action and the effect of drugs on
that vital organ. The chronograph opens
the way to the accurate measuring and re-
cording of the speed and variation of hu-
man heart beats over long periods, even
during the sleeping hours ot the subject,
which Is expected to prove of great value
to physiologists and criminologists.
The heart of the recent demonstration
was that of a turtle, removed from the
reptile while alive, freed of all extraneous
tissue and suspended in a physiological
salt solution exactly duplicating body con-
ditions. In this state the organ continues
to beat for thirty-six hours, at the same
time setting down, py means of the chron-
ograph, a graphic history of the approxi-
mately 72,000 pulsations it makes in that
time. With each beat the tiny organism
pulled down a little lever that dipped a
fine filament into a drop of mercury and
made a contact that transmitted an elec-
tric impulse to the chronograph. There it
was translated to a fraction of a second
into a record inked on a chart.
# Introduction into the solution of nico-
tine— one part in 10,000— and of adrena-
lin— one part in a billion— was imme-
diately noted by a marked retarding of
the heart tempo in the first case and swift
acceleration in the second.
Use of the chronograph to study the
action of any heart that can be removed
from the living body is possible, the sci-
entist said, adding that a comparatively
simple adjustment will make possible re-
cording of the human heart by a device
applied to the chesjk
Application of the Instrument to tests
of human nerve reactions and to psycho-
logical tests is forecast.
RADIO
made easy to learn
at home
R ADIO is a fascinating profession. Now you
, can become an expert in any one of its
twenty different branches. Simply by studying
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It is not hard to study radio the way it’s taught
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And you need not give up the position you now
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Tbe RCA Institutes* Home Laboratory Training
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Too learn about servicing, operating, radio teleph-
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notion picture installation, maintenance and re-
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cwy student, enabling you to easily solve radio
patterns.
Send for this FREE BOOK Today l
RCA rVSTmTKS, Ihc*
RCA INSTITUTES. Inc.
Dm*. QN-B
71 Vertek BC, New York, N. Y.
ni Hmm wtnl mo yoor PHEE book which toll* about yum
V nitliu J of radio I w traction etjunne.
Former Plasterer Now
Earning $ 1 2,000 a Year
“Whan I enrolled with the Intarantlmnl Cwrrwspon*
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thins about bluaprinia. Today 1 have my own con*
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difficult joba and eaacuta them to the aatlafaclion of
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That’s a true story of what just one student of the Interna-
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tions and io creates in mlary due directly to apare-linie study.
One hour a day spent with the I. C. S.. In the quiet of your
own htwnn. will prepare you far succeu la the work you like
bat
Mali Coupon for Free Booklet
INTERNATIONAL CORRESPONDENCE SCHOOLS
“fU VMvomoX CnicOiUf
Bn a 1 1 0-F. Irutu. paeaa.
Without eett er obligation. please tend me a top? of your book-
let. **Wke Wlet aid Why, 1 ' and full particular* about ih* i object
befwe which I hare narked X;
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MOULDING A
MIGHTY ARM
Get a 17 Inch Bicep
Complete Course on Arm Building
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Get an arm o! might with the power and grip to
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You can develop a pair of triceps shaped like a horsesh^fe
and just as strong, and a pair of biceps that will show
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the biceps and elbow will be deep and thick with wire cable
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alive and writhe with cordy sinew. All this you can get for
25 cents — send for this course today and you can have
a he-man's arm built to be as beautiful, brawny and
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You can’t make a mistake. The guarantee of die strong-
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price of only 25c.
RUSH THE COUPON TODAY
To each purchaser will be given a FREE COPY of THB
THRILL OF BEING STRONG. It is a priceless book
to the strength fan and muscle buitder. Full of pictures
of marvelous bodied men who tell you decisively now you
can build symmetry and strength the equal of theirs.
■EACH OUT— GRASP TIIS SPECIAL OFFER
JOWETT INSTITUTE ol FIYSICAL CULTURE
422 Poplar Street, Dept. 2VA, Scranton, Penn.
Dear Mr. Jowett: I am enclosing 25c. Please send me
the course "MOULDING A MIGHTY ARM” and a
free copy of "THE THRILL OF BEING STRONG.”
swa tch sample*. You are under no obligation. I Address
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NO MORE BIG /
r 4-.TIRE BILLS'
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DEAFNESS IS MISERY
Many people with defective bearing ya
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go to Theatre and Church beesuae thev JM1
f wv, H. uaa Leonard InviiibU Ear Druma which VII
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t Jr No wirea. batterica headpiece. MTVff
T J They art inexpenaive. Write for dr f ■
booklet and aworn itatament of V
the inventor who wsa himaclf deaf.
IL 0. LEONAltO. hM~ Ssltg 613. TOMAmuRmTM
by than thin, soothing , h ooting H 1 *
hhl Aim AamfwrCmlLm mm, Bool—.
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and $750 CA-H
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Find 5 Faces
grening comes and strange shadows appear. Some
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me with your name and address. Send at once. Enter for this $1,500.00 Buick Sedan deliv-
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$750 Cash Extra for Promptness
For being prompt, I will pay the winner of First Prize $750.00 Cash Extra. Everyone who takes
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send for Simple Plan. FIND 5 FACES IN THIS PICTURE. Send
answer at once. For particulars address
HAL WILSON, Mgr., $48 W. Adams St., Dept. 236, CHICAGO
f CARS
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TOBACCO HABIT
BANISHED
fclet Is Help You
Stop craving tobacco in any form.
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■A acta quickly, and la thoroughly reliable.
I Not a Substitute
Tobseco Redeemer contains no habit-forming B
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B *s$.hmaheanof partlcleof difference how long ■■
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E A PASSENGER
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288
ASTOUNDING STORIES
Money in Your Hand
Here’* Year Opportamily
Accept this free golden Invi-
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SHIRIS-TIBUNDERWPK
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91 BOO to 91990 Ymt and UP
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RAILWAY MAIL CLERK
91SSO to 92700 Year
e positions are both traveling and «atk>n*n
vtneo traveling you receive an extra allow**
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when you grow old you ore (retired with comloruble pension u
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I MAIL THIS COUPON TODAY
Ry Mail Clerk
P. O. Laborer
R. F. D. Carrlo
Special Agent
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Matron
Bteno- Typist
Immigrant Inpseur
Bamiua
Auditor
Prohibition Art.
r a. Border Patrol
Chauffeur
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4S0 MlliS
on a galion of gas
startling
statement
of famous
^Automotive Engineers
How to increase gasoline mileage has been a problem that Automotive Engineers
have been trying for years to solve. Recently a world famous engineer made the state-
ment that the energy produced by burning a gallon of gasoline would run an auto a dis-
tance of 450 miles. Other well known authorities go on record as saying that eventually
it may be possible to get over four times as much out of gasoline as in the past.
Amazli Whirlwind Device Saving Millions
of Gallons of Gas for Auto Owners’-,
The Whirlwind Carbureting device embodies scientific features which conserve part of the gasoline
that formerly went to waste.
Whirlwind u«n. reporting the remits of their tests, ore amazed at the results they are getting. Letters coming into the
office tell of record mileages resulting in a saving of from 25 to SO per cent in gas bills alone.
Mark H. Estes write*: "I was making 17 miles to the gallon on my Pontiac Coupe. Today, with the Whirlwind, I am
making 35 5/10 miles to the gallon. Am I glad I put it on? I'll say so!"
M. J. Blaiki: '*1 have had my Whirlwind for two years now and am getting 30 per cent more mileage. 1 drove my old
Oakland 28,000 miles and did not touch the motor. The plugs arc always clean and dry."
R. J. Tulp: "The Whirlwind increased the mileage on our Ford truck from 12 to 26 miles to the gallon and 25 per cent in
speed. We placed another on a Willys-Knight and ncreased from 12 to 17 miles per gallon."
Arthur Grant: **I have an Oakland touring car that has been giving me 15 miles to the gallon average, but I can see
a great difference with the Whirlwind, as it climbs the big hills on high and gives me better than 23 miles to the gallon of gas,
which is better than 50 per cent saving in gas."
Car owners all over the world are saving money every day with the Whirlwind, besides having better operating motors.
Thick what this meant on your own car. Figure up your savings- enough for a radio a bank account— added pleaiu’%.*.
Why let the Oil Companies profit by your waste? Find out about this amazing little device thnl will pay for itself every few
weeks in gas saving alone.
FITS ALL CARS
In just a few minutes the Whirlwind can be installed on
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drilling, tapping or changes of any kind necessary. It it
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SALESMEN and DISTRIBUTORS WANTED
T« Make Up To $100.00 a Week and More
Whirlwind men arc making big profits supplying this fasl-
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WHIRLWIND MANUFACTURING CO.
®*pt. SlS-A, Station C, MUwanltM, Wll.
GUARANTEE
No matter whnt kind of u car you hove — no matter how
big a gas eater it is the Whirlwind will save you money.
We absolutely guarantee that the Whirlwind will more than
save its cost in gasoline alone within thirty days, or the trinl
will cost you nothing. We invite you to test it at our risk
and expense. You are to be the sole judge.
FREE OFFER COUPON
ficiitlcmrn: You may send me full nnrtlculani of your Whirl*
wind Carburet It is ilevlee und tell nit liow I can get one free.
Till* does not obligate me tn any way whatever.
City..
( ) Check hero If yoi
salesman position.
Slate.
arc Interested lu full or part time
Of course Camels are milder
they’re Freshi
Have you noticed how women every-
where are switching to the fresh mild-
ness of Camels? Always a great favorite
with the ladies, this famous blend is more
popular now than ever, since the intro-
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If you need to be convinced, make this
simple test yourself between a humidor
fresh Camel and any other cigarette:
First, inhale the cool fragrant smoke
of a perfectly conditioned Camel and
note how easy u is to the throat.
Next, inhale the hot, brackish smoke of
a parched dry cigarette and feel that sharp
stinging sensation on the membrane.
The air-sealed Humidor Pack ke^M
all the rare flavor and aroma in an&ctfk
vents the precious natural tobaccolflK
ture from drying out. Important
it protects the cigarette from dust arid
germs.
Switch to Camel freshness and oiUJU
ness for one w hole day, then leave th^a
— if you can. <*-
'4
© 1931. R. J. Rrjnold* Tobacco Company, Wi
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